


The Long Dark Tea Time of the Soul (of a God)

by Loki Sky-Traveler (dragonmactir)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 47
Words: 81,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25871956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmactir/pseuds/Loki%20Sky-Traveler
Summary: With apologies to the late, great Douglas Adams, this is a deep, dark existential dive into the psyche of the complex character that is the god of mischief in the wake of the Endgame debacle that left him running around 2012 with a spare tesseract.  Hopefully, in the spirit of the original work by the shorter version of this title, it will be rather funny as well, because Loki would certainly want it that way.
Relationships: Loki/Sigyn (Marvel)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	1. ..............

“This is what we know,” Nick Fury said. “Loki ran off with the tesseract at the end of the battle of New York after Tony’s little time-travel flub. What he did with it and where he went we had no clue, but we’ve got something of an idea now. Someone matching his description has turned up in Midtown, leading what is to all appearances a normal, quiet life. He even has a child, which facial recognition software has identified as James Striker, Jr., a native New Yorker whose parents were killed in the battle. Whether this is an abduction or adoption is hard to say.”  
  
“I think we can safely determine abduction,” Tony said. “Loki doesn’t have it in him to adopt a child.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Natasha said. “He’s adopted, right?”  
  
“So what, he wants to pass on the love?” Tony scoffed.  
  
“Maybe he wants to rectify what he sees as the mistakes.”  
  
“You can’t tell me some big-eyed orphan looked at him and his heart melted,” Steve Rogers said.  
  
“What, you think my brother has no heart?” Thor said.  
  
“He hasn’t shown it before now.”  
  
“I think the kid is insurance,” Clint Barton said. “He keeps him around to keep us at bay. He knows we won’t go in on him while he’s got a hostage.”  
  
“I admit, that is the sort of thinking to which my brother would be prone,” Thor said.  
  
“But why hide in the heart of Midtown?” Doctor Banner said. “It makes no sense. We were bound to find him there.”  
  
“And why hide as himself?” Thor said. “My brother is a shapeshifter. He could be anyone or any creature he wants to be. If he wished to disguise himself, we would never know he was there.”  
  
“What is he doing with himself while he’s hiding in Midtown, Fury? Do you have any idea?” Banner asked.  
  
“We do, actually, and it’s quite interesting,” Fury said. He touched a button and a visual appeared on the video screens across the room of a tall, dark-haired man sifting through rubble with a crew of others. “He’s assisting with the clean-up efforts in the wake of the battle.”  
  
“What is this, an attempt to show remorse?” Steve said. “I’m not buying it.”  
  
“I understand this,” Thor said. “Our father taught us that when you make a mess, you clean it up, no matter your feelings about how the mess was made.”  
  
“So to clean up after himself he risks capture? No no, I don’t buy it,” Steve said. “He’s playing some kind of angle. He’s always playing some kind of angle.”  
  
“I cannot deny it,” Thor said.  
  
“So what do we do?” Clint said. “We can’t go busting in on him, he’s got the kid. Even if he didn’t, he’s still got the tesseract, presumably, so he could just pop right out of here at a moment’s notice. So what, has he got us in check?”  
  
“We could play the bad guys and go busting in on him, kid or no,” Natasha said.  
  
“We couldn’t do that,” Banner said. “We couldn’t.”  
  
“Maybe we could make him think we would,” Fury said.  
  
“Be cautious, Fury,” Thor said. “Loki is ever several steps ahead of his opponents.”  
  
“And yet you’ve beaten him time and time again,” Fury pointed out.  
  
“By the skin of my teeth, and mostly by the glory of Mjolnir,” Thor said. “He can’t lift it, so it is handy to pin him beneath it. All his plans are for naught when he is flat on his back with a hammer on his chest.”  
  
“Well, we’ll pull that trick out of the bag if need be,” Fury said. “Let’s saddle up and roll out people.”  


...................................................................................................................

“Daddy, can I have some juice?”  
  
“I asked you not to call me that, Judah,” Loki said, but he got up and went to the kitchenette for the requested juice.  
  
“And I asked you not to call me Judah,” the little boy said. “My name is James.”  
  
“How did such a small child get such a smart mouth?” Loki said with a twisted smile. He strolled back into the small living area and handed the child his juice.  
  
“Just lucky I guess,” the boy said, and grinned. Loki grinned back. It was not his “I’m planning something underhand” grin, but an open grin that looked vastly different.  
  
“It’s late,” Loki said. “Time for little mortal boys to be abed.”  
  
“I can’t be a bed, I can only be a boy,” the child said.  
  
Loki gently grabbed hold of the tip of the boy’s nose. “No arguments. And that joke was atrocious.”  
  
“Give me some credit, I’m only five.”  
  
“When I was your age, I was eight thousand times your age. Now off to bed.”  
  
“Geez, give a guy a little immortality and he thinks he’s a god or something,” the boy said, but he jumped down from the couch obediently. He turned around though and stood with his arms folded behind him. “Are you coming to tuck me in?”  
  
“I’ll be along. Run along now.”  
  
The boy held his arms out. “Hug?” he said hopefully.  
  
“Don’t push your luck.”  
  
Brown eyes went wide and limpid. “Pul-lease?”  
  
Loki grumbled, but gave the boy a hug.  
  
“Thank you again for saving me,” the boy said, and planted a quick kiss on Loki’s cheek. Then he swiftly dashed away to his room down the hall before Loki had time to react.  
  
Loki sat back on the couch with a stone face. He could not answer the question even in his own mind as to why precisely he had rescued the bawling orphan from the wrecked building when he saw him there among the remains of his dead parents. Sentiment? He had thought himself immune to such things.  
  
Of course the boy had his uses. If the Avengers came calling, the boy provided a touch of insurance, and of course he counted on the fact that the Avengers would come calling. Of less function was the boy if Thanos came to call for his tesseract, but that was what the Avengers were for. The enemy of mine enemy may not be my friend, but they may be the safest port in the storm after all. But in the end, did the boy really serve enough purpose to counteract the trouble he caused? No, not hardly, and he’d known that from the first. So why then had he taken him in?  
  
“Daddy, I’m ready,” a lilting little boy voice drifted to him from the room down the hall.  
  
He pushed himself up from the couch. “Judah, I told you never to call me that,” he said, heading for the boy’s room.  
  
“Then stop calling me Judah. My name is James.”  
  
A pause, and then, “Daddy?”  
  
“Yes, Judah?”  
  
“There’s a woman in my room.”  
  
Loki stopped and stood still. “Red hair, black leather?” he called.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“It’s just your imagination, Judah, don’t worry about it.”  
  
So, the Avengers were here, and they were prepared to play dirty. Well, they were going to find out what playing dirty was all about, that was all there was to it. He turned around and went to the living area and sat back down on the couch to wait in an attitude of complete ease.  
  
Someone knocked at the door, quite politely. Loki raised a hand and the deadbolt unlocked. “Enter,” he said.  
  
The door opened and Thor sauntered in, Mjolnir in hand. “Brother,” he said, nodding. Loki nodded back but said nothing in return. “You know why I’m here, I suppose.”  
  
“You want the tesseract, and a degree of vengeance, I would assume.”  
  
“Mostly the former, myself, though I will admit my friends won’t be satisfied without a certain amount of the latter. I must confess they deserve it. And really when it comes down to it, so do I, now don’t I, brother? I just put my desire for it aside a bit in my joy at realizing you were actually alive and not dead as I had feared. I’m still exceedingly angry with you, brother. All the more so now.”  
  
“So, what are you planning to do about it?” Loki said, cocking his head in an inquisitive and, yes, ever so slightly arrogant fashion.  
  
“May I sit?” Thor asked. Loki gestured grandly at the one rather ill-used specimen of armchair across the way. Thor seated himself upon it gingerly, as if afraid it would collapse under his weight. “I wanted to try and speak with you. To reason with you.”  
  
“Because that worked so well the last time,” Loki said.  
  
“Last time, you had the upper hand,” Thor said. “Or so you thought. But Stark threw a donkey wrench into your plans, didn’t he? Your chitauri invasion did not go as you meant it to, and you did not deliver the Mind Stone to Thanos. Did you even give him the Tesseract?”  
  
“The tesseract is the only trump card I have left. I’ll not let go of it,” Loki said. “And the term is ‘monkey wrench,’ you blithering idiot, not ‘donkey wrench.’”  
  
“Just because I do not have the Dragon Tongue, as you have, does not make me stupid,” Thor said, stung despite himself. “I’m learning Midgardian jargon but it is slow going because it changes so swiftly.”  
  
“I’m sorry, brother, of course your inability to speak languages as I do does not make you stupid,” Loki said, and Thor was mollified for a split second until Loki said, “Your inability to learn simple problem solving makes you stupid. Honestly, I think Odin must have dropped you on your head not once, not twice, but a dozen times when you were a babe.”  
  
“Listen, you pernicious little twat,” Thor said.  
  
“Go piss up a rope, you ass biscuit from the south end of a northbound narjbilchr.”  
  
“Gentlemen, let’s not de-evolve, shall we?” Natasha Romanov said, coming in from Judah’s room leading the boy by the hand. “Keep it civil, why don’t we? For the boy’s sake?”  
  
Loki grinned, and it was much more in the manner of his most evil grins. “Is that really what you’re here for, Black Widow? To keep us civil for the boy’s sake?”  
  
“Let’s pretend for the moment that I am,” she said, batting not an eyelash. “Thor, why don’t you calm down and tell your brother our proposal.”  
  
Loki raised a forestalling hand. “If Thor tries to explain it will take longer than a mortal lifetime for him to get the point across,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve come here to say, Ms. Romanov? For the purposes of expediency?”  
  
She shrugged one black-clad shoulder. “Very well then. We want you on our side, Loki. Surely you can see the perks of working with a team of gods and metahumans when Thanos comes calling for the tesseract… which you know he will?”  
  
“How do you even know of Thanos, is what I want to know?” Loki said. “Future Stark did more than just drop the ball, I suppose? He also dropped a bombshell of future knowledge?”  
  
“Forewarned is forearmed,” Thor said grimly. “Loki, we know what happens if Thanos has all the Infinity Stones. If he gains command of them all, so many people will die… including you, my brother. Believe me. We know that we are a timeline that was not meant to exist, but we cannot let it go to Helheim for all of that, now can we?”  
  
“Maybe, if we work together, we can build something better than Stark and Rogers managed to create the first time around,” Natasha said.  
  
“And the world will be as one,” Loki sang, laughter, not particularly sane laughter, in his voice. “Honestly, how would I be better off in a bright target cluster with you peons than alone?”  
  
“Well, for one thing,” Natasha said, drawing the boy up into her arms and putting a knife to his throat, “Sweet Baby James, or whatever you call him, will still be alive.”  
  
Thor winced. “Daddy!” the child cried. Loki sat unfazed.  
  
“Well?” Natasha said. “It’s your play.”  
  
“I fail to see why you thought this would be a reasonable gambit,” Loki said. “The boy means nothing to me. Kill him if you’re going to. I do not care.”  
  
Natasha shrugged again. “Fine. Say goodbye.” She drew back the knife. Loki didn’t move.  
  
But the boy did. He grabbed her arm and twisted it, flinging her over his shoulder onto the floor as he transformed into, well, Loki of course. The figure on the couch vanished. From the kitchenette, the boy giggled.  
  
“Faced! Daddy tricked you!” he said. Thor groaned and put a hand to his face.  
  
“I told you this wouldn’t go well, Natasha.”  
  
Loki looked down into Natasha’s face. “Now let me tell you how I see this playing out,” he said.


	2. .................

“Absolutely not,” Fury said. He slapped a manila file folder down on the nearby bank of computers. “I don’t care what agreement was made, you can’t just ‘have’ an orphan. There’s a system for these things and it runs for a purpose. The boy, James Striker, goes into that system, and he gets adopted by a family that can take proper care of him. End of story.”

“Judah is mine,” Loki said. Lightning flashed outside and thunder cracked immediately afterward, and Fury wondered if Thor was as angry as Loki looked, or if Loki had some extra secrets Thor hadn’t told them about.

“Ah, Thor, did you do that? Because I didn’t hear nothing about no thunderstorms in the forecast today,” Fury said.

“Wasn’t me,” Thor said.

“It was me,” Loki said.

“You can’t… call the lightning,” Thor said, looking back and forth from his brother to the windows and back again.

“You can do damned near anything you want to once you’ve studied magic long enough and hard enough,” Loki said. “I thought perhaps you needed a demonstration of exactly who it is you’re dealing with.”

“You failed to inform us that your brother was a sorcerer, Thor,” Fury said, leveling a glare worthy of his name upon Thor. “That puts him on a whole other level we were unaware of.”

“He doesn’t use it anymore,” Thor said.

“He just did.”

“He won’t do it again. He gave it up after the… well, the… ‘incident.’”

“I’m confused,” Steve said. “How does what he just did differ from the illusions and shapeshifting he does all the time?”

“Those are his native powers,” Thor said. “His ‘god’ powers, if you will. The lightning is magic – he had to learn that. With me it’s different, the lightning is my native power.”

“So you’re a sorcerer, too, then?” Fury said, giving Thor another hard look.

“Not I. I never had a head for that rot.”

“You never had a head for much of anything,” Loki snapped.

“At any rate,” Thor said, giving his brother a glare, “he won’t do it again.”

“Do you care to test that theory?” Loki said. He raised his hands. “Judah is mine, and you will bring him to me, or I will wreak untold havoc upon all of you, I swear it before Odin.”

“He can’t do that,” Tony said. “Can he do that?”

“I think it highly likely that he could,” Thor said. “Loki is exceptionally skilled at the sorcerous arts, even for a god. He should be out of practice, though.”

“Do not press me,” Loki said.

“You really think he won’t do it?” Fury said.

“He hasn’t done it in… what’s it been, a thousand years? But… he was a First Class Battlemage with the Asgardian army. Even if he is out of practice, he could put the hurt on us in a very big way if he put his mind to it.”

“So why don’t you forestall him by dropping your hammer on his chest?” Steve said. “Seems like that would solve everything.”

“That would solve nothing, actually,” Thor said. “It keeps him immobile and makes his illusions pretty useless, but he can still cast magic from ‘neath Mjolnir. Ever since he set himself against me, I’ve relied rather heavily on the fact that he doesn’t cast any longer. Even if his mouth were gagged and his hands were bound, he could still conceivably cast. Loki mastered long ago the art of mental casting.”

“I will say again, do not press me. You will find me quite willing to come out of retirement for this,” Loki said.

“Why? What does this boy mean to you, Loki? He’s just a child, a human child. Why does he matter?” Fury said.

“Because he does. That is all you need to know,” Loki said.

“So much so that you’re willing to kill us all to get him back,” Fury said.

“In a mortal heartbeat.”

“Is there a difference between a mortal heartbeat and an immortal heartbeat?” Fury asked, eyebrow raised over his one good eye.

“About three minutes time.”

Fury threw up his hands. “Okay then. Bring the man the kid.”

“Wait, Nick,” Steve said. “Why give in? This is the last guy who needs to oversee an impressionable child. Why not just get Doc Strange to pop over here and take him out with his magic?”

“I would caution you against such action,” Thor said. “Stephen Strange has only studied magic for a few short years. Loki has been a master longer than Stephen’s mentor, your so-called Ancient One, was alive. He has studied magics of which she had never before heard.”

“That doesn’t jibe,” Tony said. “You told us Loki was only fifteen hundred and fifty or so, right? The Ancient One was at least as old as Stonehenge.”

“Stonehenge isn’t that old,” Thor said.

“Thor doesn’t understand conversions,” Loki said, sneering. “Every unit of measurement he gives you is Asgardian, whether it be distance, speed, space, or years. There are roughly eight thousand Midgardian years in each Asgardian year. I am, to round it off to the nearest integer, fifteen hundred and fifty Asgardian years old. You do the math.”

Some people started counting on their fingers. Tony, of course, did the math in his head.

“You’re approximately twelve million and four hundred thousand years old?” he said. “Holy shit. So, what really killed the dinosaurs?”

“Do you mean those large land-dwelling creatures that used to roam around here years back? You’d have to ask Odin, I wasn’t alive back then,” Loki said. “The smaller ones are still flitting about, though. You just gave them a different name. You call them birds.”

“Ha! I told you, Steve!” Tony said, shooting finger guns at Rogers.

“I still don’t believe it,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thor told us that Loki was born during some big war some frosty guy was waging on Midgard, and that was when humans found out about Asgardians. The Vikings weren’t around twelve million years ago.”

“It wasn’t the Vikings that Odin’s armies met back then, just various random tribes of Homo Sapiens,” Loki said. “You didn’t have much in the way of civilization at the time so once the war was won father took his men and just… left.”

“Wow,” Natasha said. “So the genesis of all mankind’s religious beliefs could stem from those encounters.”

“No. No way,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Are you all well educated now?” Loki said. “Bring me the boy.”

“I recommend it, Fury,” Thor said. “He really seems to want it for some reason.”

Fury raised his hands. “All right. All right. I’ll pull the boy out of the system. From this day forward, James Striker, Jr. is just another one of the many casualties of the battle of New York. You can raise him yourself if you want to, provided you have proper oversight.”

“What constitutes proper oversight?” Loki said.

“SHIELD oversight. I’ll assign a responsible agent to keep an eye on things between the two of you. Make sure you’re not leading the boy too far astray.”

“Too far? So then I’m allowed to lead him somewhat astray,” Loki said.

Fury let out a noisy breath. “You’re the god of mischief. I figure no matter how good our best efforts may be, it’s inevitable.”

“Very well. I agree to your ‘oversight,’” Loki said, backing down from his aggressive stance. “So long as the boy is mine.”


	3. .................

Agent Philip J. Coulson walked into the Stark Tower apartment without drawing his weapon or even putting a hand near it but still with an attitude of expectation as though he was aware that any moment he may be called upon to do so. “Mr. Odinson? Agent Coulson, here for our first check-in.”

“Enter, please,” came that strident voice. “And don’t call me ‘Mr. Odinson.’ My brother may be ‘Mr. Odinson’ if it so please him. I am simply as I ever am, Loki.”

Phil attempted a smile but what made it to his face was a wan parody thereof. “Aren’t you supposed to say ‘My father is Mr. Odinson?’”

“My father would be Mr. Borrson, actually, at least if we’re talking about Odin. Laufey… well, I have no idea in Helheim who his father may have been or how frost giants carry their surnames onward and care even less.”

“So you’re just going by one name, then? Like Madonna and Cher and… and Twiggy?”

“Do not call me that. Don’t ever call me that. I got enough of that to last me a lifetime. Several thousand lifetimes, in your case.”

“What? What did I say?” Phil said.

“That name. That abominable name.”

Madonna? Phil thought briefly, then a moment’s cogitation, and a mental comparison of Loki to Thor, cropped up the answer. “Twiggy?”

“I said don’t and I meant it. You’re lucky I signed a non-aggression pact.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start anything,” Phil said. He moved deeper into the apartment, looking around for the source of the voice, which was coming from somewhere further in. He found the god in the sunken living room, folded up on the floor in some sort of yoga pose or contortionist move, while the child James or Judah or whatever he was going by sat nearby attempting to do the same thing. The most impressive thing about the… folding… was that Loki was still wearing the heavy, form-fitting leather armor he wore almost all the time, which just didn’t look suited to that sort of calisthenics. Especially in… places.

“You’re into yoga?” Phil said, keeping his tone light, conversational. That ‘just folks’ way he had that was so disarming.

“Yoga is a human invention. This is an ancient Asgardian wellness routine. One is just as bullshit as the other, really, but a human would never be able to master our version.”

“If you think it’s… um,” Phil coughed into his fist, “false… why do you do it?”

Loki unfolded and went directly into a sort of pretzel-shaped handstand. “Because even a god has to stay in shape,” he said. “I’m a shapeshifter, and lest you think it’s easy simply because it comes naturally to me, allow me to assure you that it is not. The changes are physical. They require a great deal of effort and flexibility.”

“So it’s false, but it works, is that what you’re saying?”

“The whole concept behind it, of tapping into source energies and reaching an enlightened state of consciousness, is patent leather bullshit. But it’s good exercise.”

Phil nodded, watched thoughtfully for a time, then said, “Tell me, Loki, are you the galaxy’s only atheist god?”

Loki stood up properly, straightened out his armor, and grinned. “You probably won’t live to meet another.”

Loki perched himself on the arm of the sofa and looked at Phil. “I know you. You’re the one I didn’t kill this go-round. Small universe, eh?”

Phil paled just slightly. “You know about that?”

“I’m a sorcerer, Coulson. I have my ways of knowing what I shouldn’t. I’m really more interested in the fact that you know it. And still they assigned you to work with me? Oh, this could be fun.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Odinson,” Phil said, drawing on all his courage to remain calm and steady in voice and manner, because even though he had not lived through the death that had occurred in the original iteration of the events leading to the battle of New York, this… creature… did frighten him just a little. He had serial killer eyes. Serial killers didn’t frighten Coulson, but those eyes on a man… god… whatever… that had proved to be this powerful did. “You have to work with me if you want to keep James.”

“Judah,” Loki said, cocking his head to one side and regarding Coulson as though he were a cockroach.

“Whatever you want to call him, one word from me and you lose him.”

“I could kill you and make it so they never knew you were dead,” Loki said.

“Little pitchers have big ears,” Coulson said, pointing at the boy, who was sitting crosslegged on the floor now, looking back and forth from one of them to the other taking this all in with great concern. Loki stood up, drew himself up tall (perhaps taller than he really was), and glared down at Coulson.

“You will not take him away from me.”

“Then behave yourself. You signed a pact, after all. Are you a man of your word or aren’t you?”

Loki let out a long breath through his nose. “Very well. You may rest assured I will… leave you alone. As much as my nature allows, at least.”

Coulson nodded. “I will accept that, at least until I see just how much your nature allows.”

“Do you have anything else to say or will you be on your way?” Loki said, everything in his bearing saying that Coulson had better say the latter.

“I just need to ask whether there is anything you need from us? Does James… Judah have any wants or wishes?”

“No, I believe we have everything we could possibly desire, particularly now that we have both cold and hot running water.”

The boy stood up and tugged at Loki’s arm. Loki looked down. “What is it, Judah?” he asked, his voice gentle enough, Coulson noticed. That was a good sign. At least he wasn’t giving the boy the same pompous, impatient act he was getting.

“Could we get some Teddy Grahams?” the boy said. Loki looked at him for a moment, then at Coulson, and Coulson could have laughed out loud at the expression on his face. Loki didn’t know what the boy was talking about.

“They’re a snack cracker little human boys are fond of,” Coulson said, trying hard not to smile at Loki’s confusion. “I’ll have some sent up, and a few other treats he might like you’ve probably never encountered. If, that is, you’re okay with him having things that aren’t one hundred percent healthy. If you’re a vegan or something, then Teddy Grahams are probably no go. I don’t actually know if vegans let their kids have Teddy Grahams or not, now that I think of it.”

“A what? No, no, get the boy whatever he might like,” Loki said, flapping a dismissive hand and then passing it through his greasy hair in distraction. “He never said boo to me about wanting Teddy Grahams before now.”

Coulson made a note in his phone to have an agent pick up snacks for James/Judah and left the apartment, allowing himself to smile as he walked out the door.


	4. .................

When Natasha entered the apartment later that same day to deliver the promised snacks, she heard a youthful voice piping from the living area, “Before, he had hunted in play, for the sheer joyousness of it; now he hunted in deadly ear… ear…”

“Earnestness,” Loki’s voice prompted.

“Earnestness, and found nothing. Yet the failure of it ack… ack…”

“Sound it out.”

“Ack cell err ate ed.”

“Very good. Go on.”

“Accelerated his development.”

Natasha put the bags down on a sideboard and crept closer to listen.

“He studied the habits of the squirrel with greater carefulness, and strove with greater craft to steal upon it and surprise it. He studied the wood-mice and tried to dig them out of their burrows; and he learned much about the ways of moose-birds and woodpeckers. And there came a day when the hawk’s shadow did not drive him crouching into the bushes. He had grown stronger, and wiser, and more confident. Also, he was desperate. So he sat on his haunches, con spic you ous lee, in an open space, and challenged the hawk down out of the sky. For he knew that there, floating in the blue above him, was meat, the meat his stomach yearned after so in sis tant lee. But the hawk refused to come down and give battle, and the cub crawled away into a thicket and whimpered his disappointment and hunger.”

“White Fang,” Natasha said, making the boy jump and drop the book he held. Loki, for his part, did not react to her sudden arrival. “Smart kid you got there.”

“He was deplorably undereducated before coming to me. Do you know the highest form of literature he’d been exposed to was One Potato Two?” Loki said. “Honestly, you people have so little time, yet you waste so much of it.”

“He can read it, but does he understand it?” Natasha said.

“Judah, do you understand what you just read?” Loki asked.

“There was no food in the forest,” the boy said promptly. “The cub was starving. But it helped him learn how to hunt.”

Loki looked back at Natasha with a glare of irony in his eyes. “Honestly, you mortals put so little faith in your children. They’re smarter than you give them credit for. Perhaps you’d actually be able to achieve something lasting if you educated them properly.”

Natasha crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think you can take this boy as the standard example of a five-year-old. He seems unusually bright to me.”

“Any mortal with a brain is unusually bright,” Loki said. “Most of you are walking around with your bulbs quite blown. Why are you here?”

“Grocery delivery,” she said, carefully not rising to his bait. “Teddy Grahams.”

“Isn’t a job like that rather beneath your pay grade?”

“I wanted to see how you were settling in.”

“We’re settled. You may consider your job complete.”

“Hold on, now. I’d like a moment to get to know the little guy,” Natasha said.

“When you were introduced you put a knife to his throat,” Loki said.

“I put a knife to your throat,” Natasha said.

“You didn’t know it was me.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Easy enough for you to say you were in full command of the situation now, but I remember you lying flat on your back looking very much out of control.”

Natasha shrugged. “One way or the other, we’re all friends now, right? At least according to that piece of paper you signed. So how about it? Introduce me.”

“I don’t think Judah needs to make the proper acquaintance of assassins.”

“And I don’t think Judah needs to be raised by killer gods, but sometimes it just works out that way.”

“I’m not a… fine, Judah, this is Natasha. I’ll be working with her for the next little while.”

“Little while?” Natasha said, eyebrow raised.

“You’ll be dead in a ‘little while,’ dear heart,” Loki said calmly. “You’re mortal.”

Natasha stepped up to the boy and held out a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly. Do you want to be called Judah or do you prefer James?”

The boy eyed her warily and did not take the proffered hand. Instead, he moved closer to Loki and grabbed for his hand. “I’m Judah,” he said after a long moment.

“Would you like to see the snacks I brought? I’ve got Teddy Grahams and Jell-O pudding cups and peanut butter crackers…”

“No, thank you,” the boy said, pressing himself closer to Loki’s side.

“He did see you stick a knife to the throat of a lad that looked just like him,” Loki said. “I don’t think you’re going to win him over with snack foods.”

“Well, I’ll just have to be persistent, then,” Natasha said. “Goodbye for now, you two. Enjoy your Teddy Grahams.”

“I have got to find out what in Helheim is a Teddy Graham,” Loki said.


	5. .................

When Coulson came for his second check-in the next day, he found a very different Loki from the yoga master. The god met him at the door, greasy hair mussed, green eyes wild, to all appearances quite flustered indeed.

“What is this?” he said, holding some small object up in front of Coulson’s eyes, too close for him to focus upon. “What is this? Judah cannot or will not explain it to me. I have studied extensively the flora and fauna of this realm and I have no clue what this may be. Clearly it is a bear, but what kind of bear? I understand, vaguely, the ‘chicken’ chunks formed into the shapes of dinosaurs, but what are these monstrosities and why do they exist!?!”

Coulson couldn’t help it. He grinned. Then he took the Teddy Graham from Loki’s fingers and popped it into his mouth. “You don’t have teddy bears in Asgard?” he said while he chewed.

“Teddy bears? I have never come upon word of such a creature. Do they really wear sunglasses? Do they have some form of macular degeneration?”

Coulson laughed. “They’re not a living creature, they’re a toy. Kids… cuddle them. At night, while they sleep.”

If anything, Loki’s expression only became the more bemused. “Why would anyone cuddle a bear? By Odin, do you know how dangerous bears are to mortals?”

“Well, teddy bears are harmless, and cute and plushy, and kids love them, and Nabisco capitalized on that by making their graham crackers look like them. Kids think shaped food is fun. Have you tried them? They’re pretty tasty.”

“I don’t eat food that looks like it could eat me,” Loki said. “Food should no longer look like what it was once a part, but neither should it be so heavily prepared that it looks like something it is not.”

Coulson shrugged. “Your loss. How are things?”

“Quite well, despite Judah’s peculiar tastes. I am teaching him to read proper literature, and it is going quite well despite his disadvantage of being a mortal.”

“Do you spend a lot of time telling him he’s disadvantaged as a mortal?” Coulson said.

Loki’s face screwed up in pain. “Judah is a bright boy, at least as smart as the average Asgardian. That’s not what I meant. What I mean is his disadvantage of time. If I had as long as I would have with any Asgardian child, I could show you wonders. As it stands, I don’t know that I’ll be able to teach him much before I run out of time.”

“Does that worry you?” Coulson asked.

“That my son will grow old and die before a year of my life has passed? Yes, it worries me.”

“Your son.”

“What?”

“You called him your son.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You misheard me.”

“I am quite certain I did not.”

“You most certainly did.”

Loki loomed up close to him and held a hand in front of his face. “You don’t need to check our identification; these are not the droids you are looking for.”

Coulson blinked, shook his head, and said, “What were we talking about?”

“You were just leaving,” Loki said.

“Oh yeah. Hey, does Judah have a teddy bear? I’d bet not. I’ll see about getting him one.”

“To maul him in his sleep? I don’t believe he requires such thing.”

“Every kid needs a teddy bear. You’ll see, he’ll love it. If everything is going well, I’ll let you be for now. Behave yourself and stop worrying about shaped food.”

“Yes, yes, the boy may eat his teddy bears and his dino chickens,” Loki said. “I shall stick to steak.”

“So you’re not a vegan, then?” Coulson said. “After meeting Thor, I didn’t think that was an Asgardian thing, but looking at you, I couldn’t be sure.”

“So I’m slightly less bulky than Wonder Lunk and you think I follow an entirely different diet of some sort?” Loki said, raising a sardonic brow. “Marvelous.”


	6. .................

“And so, Judah, you see that it is unwise ever to let your guard down. Trust no one, for all have their own dark hand. One who smiles at you today will knife you in the gut tomorrow.”

“Trust nobody?”

“No one.”

“Not even you?”

Natasha drew closer to listen for the answer, but it was a long time in coming.

“Especially not me, Judah.”

_I wonder if Judah knows Loki is responsible for his real parents’ deaths,_ Natasha thought as she hid out of sight around the blind corner by the front door. _I’d just about bet he doesn’t. Loki isn’t likely to be the one to tell him, either. I wonder how that would affect this whole family dynamic they’ve got going on?_

“I don’t care what you say, Daddy. I trust you. You saved me.”

“A child’s folly,” Loki said. “Have you heard enough, Ms. Romanov, or are you not done spying yet?”

“You can’t blame me for doing my job,” she said, coming out of hiding. “And for what it’s worth, I knew you knew I was there.”

“Oh, but did you know that I knew that you knew that I knew that you knew that I knew that you knew that I knew that we both knew?” Loki said.

“Say what now?” Judah said. Loki smoothed back his unruly black curls and smiled at him.

“Just a touch of snark, my boy. Never mind.”

Judah nodded decisively. “Oh. Where you piss people off with jokes, right?”

“A flawless definition. Full marks.”

“Nice language you’re teaching the kid,” Natasha said.

“The only reason profanity is profane is because the French deemed it so when they took over England some years back. They felt the native Anglo-Saxon was dirty and uncouth and for some odd reason the tradition stuck even though you’ve thrown over the French and gone back to your native tongue. It’s all just words.”

Natasha shrugged. “Whatever you say. I’m not here to teach you about teaching the kid good manners.”

“Then what are you here for? Honestly, between you and Coulson I cannot get a moment’s peace. And neither of you deem it appropriate to knock.”

She held up a manila file folder. “Case file. Every scrap of information we have on the Aether stone. Fury wants your input, ASAP, since according to your brother, you have some special way of finding things other people can’t.”

Loki took the folder gingerly, as though it were on fire, and set it aside on the coffee table. “Thor is wrong. I am merely more observant than is typical.”

“Thor says you can see rifts in space time,” Natasha said.

“And if everyone were as observant as I, everyone would see these rifts,” Loki said, without a trace of sarcasm.

“Well, if we don’t find the one your people hid the Aether stone in aeons ago, apparently a series of events will trigger that will, among other things, result in the death of your adoptive mother, Queen Frigga. Does that move you enough to get you off your ass and working on this thing?”

Loki closed and opened his eyes. “I am aware of those events, yes,” he said slowly. “There is, however, no need to go haring off on a scavenger hunt through the hills and dales of Midgard. I know exactly where the rift is. Frankly, I am uncertain whether going to retrieve it is the best of notions. Keeping Ms. Jane Foster away from it would seem to me to be the best thing, but then, Malekith would still come for it, one way or the other, which would leave Midgard open to his attack. I suppose you wouldn’t like that much.”

“No. No, we wouldn’t.”

“Then again, Asgard didn’t do too terribly well when he attacked either, so I don’t particularly wish to draw him there. What then do we do with the Aether? Give it to Thanos?”

“I’m going to assume you’re joking,” Natasha said. “Obviously, this is going to require some discussion. I’ll call Coulson or another senior agent to come and look after Judah. Come with me and we’ll talk to Fury and the Avengers.”


	7. .................

“There’s nothing else for it. Asgard is better prepared, they know more about it, they know how to deal with it. The Aether goes to Asgard,” Fury said. “They’ll be better prepared when Malekith attacks, too. They know what the hell he is, and how the hell he fights. We’re flying blind on both of those things.”

“I agree,” Thor said. “Father will deal with Malekith. He stands no chance.”

“Perhaps you are eager for your mother to die. I, however, am not, for some odd reason,” Loki said, rolling his eyes heavenward.

“Mother won’t die. Jane won’t be there, mother won’t have to protect her or the Aether, and Malekith’s wretched Kursed won’t go after her. And you won’t be there to give him directions.”

Loki drew up short and said nothing, a clear sign Thor had scored a rare point off him.

“So then it’s decided. The Aether goes to Asgard,” Fury said. “Good. Let’s go then.”

“Hold,” Loki said. “I’ll lead you to the Aether on one condition. When it goes to Asgard, Thor and I go with it.”

“Why, brother? So you can wreak some sinister mischief and ensure all goes wrong? Do you wish to ensure mother dies again in this timeline?” Thor said.

“On the contrary, brother, I wish to ensure that she does not. I may be a motherless foundling, but she is the closest thing I had or shall ever have.”

“When will you just wake up and admit that she is your mother?” Thor said. “Blood doesn’t enter into it. It’s like you and the mortal boy. Is he any less your son because he does not share your blood? You are not even the same species.”

“He is not my son.”

“And I am not your brother. I know, I know, Loki. I’ve heard it so much I have it by rote.”

“Thor, are you willing to go to Asgard with the Aether and… keep an eye on things?” Fury said. _Keep an eye on Loki,_ he meant.

“Of course, Fury. Father’s armies will be all the stronger with me there. And Loki can… guard the vaults or something.”

“Guard your ass, you mean,” Loki said. “I’ve kept you alive more often than I’ve tried to kill you. Thus far.”

“You know you’re not fit for the heat of full battle any longer, brother,” Thor said. “Not since the incident.”

“There it is again. A tantalizing reference to an ‘incident,’” Tony said. “I let it slide the first time because no one else said anything but you can’t really expect me to let it go by twice, can you? And not fit for the heat of battle? He seemed pretty good in battle to me when we were duking it out over New York.”

“A mortal battle,” Thor said, shrugging.

“Thor, I forbid you from saying anything,” Loki said.

“I wasn’t going to, brother. You know me better than that.”

“If you wouldn’t insist on referring to a cataclysm as an ‘incident’ they perhaps wouldn’t be so unseemingly intrigued.”

“If you wouldn’t insist on referring to it as a cataclysm you would perhaps still be in the army and of use to Asgard like a real god.”

“You insufferable ass.”

“Boys, enough,” Natasha said. “Stark, everyone else… it’s none of our business.”

“Exactly,” Fury said. “Let’s get our personal lives in the places they should be and get down to business, shall we? Loki, where is the rift?”

“London, England.”

Fury raised the brow over his good eye. “Really? I would have thought it would have been found before now, if it was there.”

“The stone isn’t there, the rift is there. The stone is in the rift. You need me to show you the rift, correct? That’s why I’m here, _n’est pas?_ Because I have better eyesight than you.”

“But the rift isn’t open yet, is it?” Thor said. “The Convergence isn’t in position yet.”

“The rift is open, it simply has no polar draw, and is very much smaller than it will be when the Convergence is in position,” Loki said. “Another reason you need me, really. Probably none of you could get into the damned thing even if you could see it. You need a shapeshifter. Ha. Frigga once told me fate gave me my exact combination of powers for a great reason. Perhaps this is that reason. Why else would I require the ability to see space time rifts and shapeshift? Hmph. I might have thought fate had a greater hand in store for me than this.”

“Come on, people, time is money. Move it,” Fury said, and gestured for them all to head for the Quinn Jet hangar.


	8. .................

Though all of the Avengers left immediately for London in the high-tech supersonic jet, they found themselves in a position of superfluity at first, as Loki had said they might. The rift, Loki said, was only large enough for a small animal to pass through. Even Black Widow, he said, talented as she may be, would not be able to fit herself through it. A medium-sized dog would have a hard time, he claimed.

Of course, no one could verify his claim, because even two steps from where he said the rift was located, no one else could see it. Not even Thor.

“How is it you can see these things and no one else can?” Tony said. “Our instruments aren’t even picking anything up.”

“Even Heimdall cannot see them,” Thor said. “And Heimdall was meant to be able to see all that exists throughout all the cosmos.”

“Well I do not know,” Loki said, rather peevishly. “No one ever explained it to me. Probably because I kept it a secret for as long as I possibly could. I couldn’t do half the mischief I was noted for if people knew how I was getting from place to place so swiftly.”

“That’s why we call you ‘Sky-Traveler,’” Thor said. “For the longest time we thought you had some secret means of flight. You… don’t, do you?”

“I can levitate, as any master sorcerer. I can also fly, if I first turn into a bird. I don’t have much practice in, though, and it’s harder than it looks. Even you cannot fly between realms, however, and neither can I. It was foolish of you to think anyone could.”

“So if you have to go in as some kind of animal, a chihuahua or something, how are you going to get the stone?” Tony said. “A chihuahua can’t bring the stone back here, where we need it.”

“The world on the other side of that rift is as large as this one, although admittedly what is immediately beyond the rift could be anything, a small room, a canyon, a bottomless pit, who knows,” Loki said. “Whatever, the point is, I’ll be able to retrieve the stone wherever it lies as my own self. Once it is in my possession it becomes bound to me and my native powers, and will transform with me just as my armor and anything else I carry with me does. I’ll be able to bring it back through the rift without difficulty.”

“Here’s the container,” Steve said, handing over the special triple-thickness vibranium cylinder that SHIELD had jury-rigged for the Aether’s transportation. “DO NOT touch this thing. You know what happens to Jane Foster if she does it.”

“Yes, Captain, I am exceedingly stupid and require tedious rhetorical warnings every fifteen minutes. Loki, out,” Loki said, and in an instant he was gone. Where he had stood was a sleek black tom cat with bright green eyes. The cat licked a paw, waved its tail lazily a couple of times, winked, and vanished into the area Loki had claimed the rift was located. In about fifteen minutes time the cat returned, turned a circle in front of them, and changed back. He handed the container to Thor.

“One Aether, Sir, hot and ready,” he said, sounding tired. Perhaps he was simply bored. Perhaps he wanted to go home to his makeshift family, but there was still work to do, at least for he and Thor, and at his own request.

Thor checked inside the container and saw a bright flash of red. He immediately closed the lid. “It looks like what future Stark described, at least.”

“Still don’t trust me? I earned that, I suppose,” Loki said. “In any event, let us take the stones to Asgard so that we may end this nightmare once and for all.”

“Stones?” Thor said blankly.

“Yes, the Aether, the Tesseract, and the Mind Stone.”

“The Tesseract and the staff are currently in lockup back in Stark Tower,” Steve said. “While I agree they’d probably be safest in Asgard, particularly since we’ve yet to completely clean up that Hydra mess future Tony told us about, I definitely don’t want them anywhere near you.”

“We don’t always get what we want,” Loki said, and withdrew both items from thin air much as he had appeared from the invisible rift.

“Where did you get those?” Natasha said. “Where did you get those? Those were under the highest security. Triple-encrypted, three vault doors, you needed three different people’s retinal scans to get in after you cracked the passcodes!”

He shook the staff at her and smiled. “It’s so cute that you think you can keep me from going where I want to go and doing what I want to do with your precious ‘security,’” he said. “Mr. Barton, you can lower that peashooter. I won’t be using either item. I only have them to put them somewhere safer than your precious SHIELD vaults.”

Clint reluctantly lowered his bow, which he had drawn instantly upon the appearance of the Mind Staff. His hands were shaking just the slightest bit. It hadn’t been easy to bring him around after recapturing him, despite knowing that a hard blow would do it – they hadn’t wanted to hurt him, after all – and he had a touch of residual fear about reentering that state of disconnectedness he’d experienced while under the staff’s power. Dr. Eric Selvig was in much worse shape, but was receiving better treatment than he had in the original timeline.

“Hand them over to Thor,” Steve said. “Let him carry them.”

“Thor does not have three hands,” Loki said. “Nor is he skilled at the fine art of juggling.”

“Trade him what you’ve got for the Aether,” Natasha said. “It’s contained, you can’t use it without it taking control of you… presumably.”

“Fine,” Loki said. He immediately swapped items with Thor. “Shall we, then?”

“After you, brother,” Thor said, gesturing toward the exit. Loki headed out and Thor followed. The Avengers shared looks at each other.

“Do you really think Thor can handle him on his own?” Tony said.

“He did it for a lot of years,” Natasha said.

“And New Mexico proved how well that turned out, not to speak of New York,” Clint said.

“Odin will be there, and Frigga. He still seems to care about her, at least,” Natasha said.

“Or he’s pretending to.”

“I think it’s real.”

“You have more faith in the idea that Loki has a heart hidden away somewhere than I do, Nat.”

“You haven’t seen him with Judah.”

“You’ve forgotten that he’s got a thing for illusions and trickery.”

“Well, one way or the other, we weren’t invited so our hands are tied,” Steve said. “We can’t just up and fly to Asgard if we’re antsy about it. We don’t even really know where it is. It’s up to Thor and Odin and I guess the Asgardian army to deal with Loki’s shenanigans now. Let’s hope that’s enough.”


	9. .................

“Father,” Thor said, stepping boldly to the throne and saluting. “We have brought you three Infinity Stones. We beg that you keep them safe from the threats that seek to abuse them.”

“I thank you, my son,” Odin said, and gestured for royal guards to take the objects and secure them in the vaults. “Malekith will come looking for the Aether. According to Frigga, there is another who seeks the power of all the stones. Will he come here?”

“He may, father, but never fear. We will stand at your side and fight with you.”

Odin turned his one pale eye onto Loki for the first time. “Both of you?”

“It acknowledges me? Amazing,” Loki said. Thor elbowed him in the ribs so hard he was knocked into a nearby pillar.

“Be respectful, brother, you’re on thin enough ice as it is,” Thor said through clenched teeth.

“If your punishment were left in my hands, Loki, you would be right now in the dungeons,” Odin said. “It is what your actions have earned you. The humans, however, have their own ideas as to what they will for you, and I will allow you that for the time they wish it.”

Loki straightened out his armor and smiled. “So once the Avengers are all dead it’s straight to prison for me, then? I see.”

“I will reevaluate my appraisal of your deserved punishment depending on how you acquit yourself in the intervening time,” Odin said. “I suggest you behave yourself. I have no great desire to send a son of mine to prison, but I will do what I must. What you force upon me.”

“How long do we have to wait for Malekith to come calling?” Thor said, in what was clearly a desperate attempt to change the subject. “Loki left his child to come here and defend Asgard.”

“Yes, the child,” Odin said. “I wanted to speak to you about that. What are your intentions regarding the mortal child, Loki? You can’t imagine that he will be a son to you, no matter what he may call you.”

“And why not?”

“Because young though he may be now, he will die before you can begin to contemplate it.”

“So what, I should have left him to die when I found him in that wrecked building?”

“Saving him was the one decent thing you’ve done of late, but you should have let him go back to his people when you had the chance.”

“And perhaps you should have done the same for me.”

``Again, time, how much are we looking at here?” Thor said, again trying to drag the conversation away from unpleasant topics to… well… looming war.

Odin eyed Loki for a long, silent moment, his mouth set in a thin, grim line, then turned his gaze back to Thor. “Now that the Aether is within our realm it will call Malekith’s attention in short order. He will be here before much time passes. Probably before the day is out.”

“An Asgardian day is considerably longer than a day on Midgard,” Loki griped.

“You’re the one who insisted on coming here, you know,” Thor said.

“Well, perhaps while we are waiting we could speak of the matter of Hela,” Loki said. “Something should really be done about that before it bites us in the ass.”

“Hrmurhgh, you know about that?” Thor said.

“Are you going to waste time being constantly surprised by what I know, or are we going to save Asgard from destruction?”

“There is no way to stop the destruction of Ragnarok,” Odin said, supremely calm.

“Not with that attitude,” Loki said. “I take it then our only way out is to somehow keep the old goat alive as long as godly possible?”

Odin raised a hand. “There is no way to stop Ragnarok, but it may be altered, possibly even postponed. One way would be, as you say, to postpone my death as long as possible. The other way, perhaps, would be to take the battle to Hela in Helheim where she waits and destroy her while she is in a weakened condition, separated from the powers of Asgard that fuel her.”

“How would that not stop Ragnarok in its tracks?” Loki said. “If Thor destroys Surtur and Hela, seems to me Asgard’s problems are solved.”

“There is always another threat, another that can bring our ultimate destruction,” Odin said, eye on Loki with glittering blue intensity.

“I would assume the Bifrost does not reach Helheim. Have you the strength to send your Golden Boy there, or will it require assistance? Heimdall taught me something of the art of summoning the Dark Energies,” Loki said.

“It will require assistance, but not yours,” Odin said. “I cannot send Thor. Thor has not the power to face Hela, even in her weakened condition. We must send someone more formidable.”

“I never thought I would hear you admit that there was anyone more formidable than your favored son,” Loki said. “Who do we send, then? The entire army?”

“Hela commands the power of death itself,” Odin said. “We require a god whose powers are on such a level as that. Potent as Thor’s lightning may be to mortals, ultimately it is not so effective against gods. His strength will avail him not against her power, and even Mjolnir will fail him in her grasp. No, we cannot send Thor. Only the power of fire is truly effective against most gods. Only the power of fire can stop Hela. We must send the god of fire.”

Loki blinked once and looked at Thor, who looked at him just as blankly. Loki blinked twice and looked back at Odin. “Who in Helheim is the god of fire?” he said. “I have never heard of him.”

“You have known him all your life, boy.”

Some gods had minor titles beyond their standard, well-known title. Odin, for example, was the God of War, but he was also the God of Music and Poetry. Frigga, the Goddess of Motherhood, was also the Goddess of Secrets and Prophecy, because she had the ability to foresee the future but rarely told anyone of her visions, preferring to let fate take care of itself. If Loki knew the god of fire it must be a case like this, but he did not know which of his acquaintances had anything to do with the power of fire. Except…

“I don’t burn,” he said slowly. “I’m immune to fire.” A fact he’d discovered as a student attempting to learn healing spells. He had purposely triggered a fire trap in the palace vaults so that he could stand in the flames and cast healing spells repeatedly over himself, thus training his skills, but there had proved to be no point as even his clothing did not singe. He had never really become particularly skilled, comparatively speaking, in white magic, not being able to find a reasonable method for grinding out training as he did all his other skills.

Odin nodded once, very slowly, not taking his eye from Loki. Loki swallowed hard.

“That doesn’t make me the god of fire,” Loki countered. “I have no special skill with flame.”

“You’ve always been quite talented with fire spells,” Thor said.

“That’s learned, not latent.”

“It doesn’t make much sense, father,” Thor said. “He’s a frost giant. Why would he be the god of fire and not of, you know, frost?”

“Why is his aspect as an Asgardian? Why is he a shapeshifter and a caster of illusions? What makes him a god at all? No one knows why these things happen, Thor,” Odin said, but he looked slightly shifty for some reason.

“Punctuated equilibrium,” Loki said.

“What?” Odin said.

“Punctuated equilibrium. It’s the human name for when evolution happens all at once, which of course is just a theory to them. Gods and giants – all varieties of giants – are related, correct? Gods evolved from giants. Perhaps sometimes it still happens.”

Odin stared in wonder at Loki for some time. Loki shrugged.

“I have to sleep sometimes. There are enough thoughts circling my mind at all hours,” he said. “Wondering why I exist doesn’t have to be one of them, does it?”

“Even if Loki is the god of fire, how can he defeat Hela?” Thor said, again trying to pull the conversation out of the reeds. “He no longer practices magic, and he has shown no other skill with fire than not to burn in it.”

“The power is there. It needs only to be… unbound.”

“Unbound? Unbound? What do you mean unbound? Who bound it? What’s going on here?” Loki said, clear signs of panic starting up in his eyes.

Odin raised his hand again. “You must understand. This power was loose in you from the time I found you. I could no more leave an infant in command of such force than I could leave you to play with matchsticks.”

“I did that quite often, as you’ll recall.”

“After you learned how to ferret out the places we tried to hide them from you,” Odin said, a thin, unwilling smile curving the corners of his stern mouth. “Nevertheless, this power was many times greater than anything produced by the spark of a matchstick, even when you were very small.”

“Father, you cannot give Loki any more power than he has now,” Thor said urgently. “He cannot be trusted.”

“Do you think I am unaware of this?” Odin said. “He has proven that, though it breaks my heart. But what then shall I do? If I do not unbind him, Ragnarok will come at the hands of Hela, and Asgard will be destroyed, along with many innocent lives. If I do, however, Loki himself may destroy all we know and love. He may not even be able to help it. The power he has had no command of for so long may simply overwhelm his ability to control it.”

Loki crossed his arms tightly over his chest and sulked. “Sounds like we’re screwed coming and going, Pops,” he said. Odin looked at him questioningly.

“I am uncertain what the phrase means precisely, father,” Thor said hesitantly, “but I agree with the spirit. It sounds like too much risk to take.”

“And so then we do nothing,” Odin said. “Is that what we should do as gods of Asgard?”

“When the alternative is apparently my brother’s spontaneous combustion? I vote for nothing,” Thor said.

“Why Thor, I didn’t know you cared,” Loki sneered.

“Of course you knew I cared, you unmitigated shit-shanker,” Thor said, again knocking Loki into the pillar, hard enough to make it shake this time.

“Oo, god of thunder picking up his insult game,” Loki said, picking himself up off the floor. “Not quite certain what a ‘shit-shanker’ is, but nice try, considering the source.”

“The question must be put forth; does Loki have the courage to try?” Odin said. “I will not lie, the risk is great. Not just to him, but to all of us. If he loses control, he has the potential to destroy Asgard just as much as the battle between Hela and Surtur will.”

“And Odin cannot speak to him directly because…?” Loki said. Odin frowned at him but said nothing. Loki sighed.

“Loki, think about this, there must be another way,” Thor said. “All we need is time to find it. Father will not die today nor yet tomorrow. Without the stresses of mother’s death and your future betrayals perhaps he will live a long time to come. We have time. Time to plan.”

“But do we wish to risk the possibility that we do not have that time after all?” Loki said. “Any one of us could die at any moment, immortal or not. Even father. And once he goes, Hela is free.”  
“You don’t want this power. You have enough power,” Thor said.

“Not enough to kill Hela.”

“If you used magic you would.”

“But as you have pointed out so many times recently, I no longer use magic.”

“Use it! It’s a tool, you worked your ass off to learn it! What is your problem? A thousand Asgardian years you’ve fought with daggers and illusion only and I’ve yet to understand it. What is your problem?”

Loki looked at him with eyes that were flat and dead. “You don’t understand because you are incapable of understanding.”

“You were prepared to use magic to defend your right to keep Judah.”

“Perhaps I was. And perhaps I wasn’t.”

Thor snorted. “I knew it. That lightning was just an illusion, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t.”

“You know what? You are a coward. That is what you are. You have spent the last thousand years cowering from whatever happened to you in that bunker instead of facing it and putting it behind you like a real god.”

Loki’s pale face turned bright red, but he did not fire off a hailstorm of invective as he normally would when angered. Instead, he spoke slowly, quietly, and relatively calmly.

“I am going to go and speak with mother for a time, if that is all right with everyone,” he said, every line of his body quivering with tension. “We will continue this discussion at another time.”


	10. .................

“What do you plan to do?” Frigga asked, brushing out her long gold-touched hair.

“What can I do? As it stands, if my powers are not unbound, Hela will destroy Asgard.”

Loki was sitting on the edge of her desk on the other side of the room, staring at the floor, swinging one leg. Frigga watched him in her mirror but did not turn to face him. He was good with deception, but she was the goddess of secrets, and even he could not keep them from her. She could read him in ways no one else could. And why not? Who knew a boy better than his mother?

“If you used your magic, nothing could stand against you,” she said, watching carefully. “Add to that Thor and your mortal friends, and even Thanos and his Chitauri would fall before you.”

“You have a high opinion of me, mother, you always did.”

“You used to have a high opinion of yourself. High enough that you felt yourself worthy of the throne of Asgard.”

“That wasn’t narcissism so much as a feeling that having Thor on that throne would be disastrous.”

Now Frigga turned to face him, dropping hands and hairbrush into her lap. “What happened to you, my boy? I remember a happy, prankish child. Where did this dark, brooding young man I see before me come from?”

“Ask Odin. He’s the one who found me.”

“You’ve been unhappy much longer than you’ve known you were adopted. You seemed to be coming out of it after… after we got you back. Getting over it. Moving on. Did something remind you? Did I do something? Did Odin do something? Did _we_ do something? Was it something we _didn’t _do? Speak to me.”__

__“Nothing happened, mother.”_ _

__“Something must have.”_ _

__“Nothing did.”_ _

__“Then why? Your whole personality underwent a full one hundred and eighty degree change, and I don’t understand it.”_ _

__“Join the club.”_ _

__Frigga’s face fell, then lightened. “You don’t understand it either? I actually find that… heartening, for some reason. It at least means you did not do it deliberately, if nothing else.”_ _

__He still did not look at her, but his scowl faded somewhat. “No, mother. I did not do it deliberately.”_ _

__She hesitated for a moment, uncertain how to phrase her next words. “I know you put no confidence in Asgardian spiritual beliefs,” she said, and he snorted. “I know, however, that you believe strongly in science and the mind. Surely you agree that the mind can be scarred just as much as the… as the body can be.”_ _

__“I already spent time in the bloody sanitarium, I’ll not do it again. It was a fucking useless waste of time. All those places are up here is ridiculous brain washing centers focused on ludicrous ideas of spiritualism.”_ _

__“What then do you think about a Midgardian sanitarium?” Frigga said. “Or simply speaking to one of their spiritual healers, what do they call them? Sycophants?”_ _

__“Psychologists,” Loki said wearily. “I don’t think I need tell you, mother, I don’t think much of the idea.”_ _

__“You need help, my boy, and if you won’t allow us to help you, you must allow someone to do so.”_ _

__“I don’t need help,” he said tightly._ _

__“I respectfully disagree. Surely you do not like being dark and broody?”_ _

__“It fits with the way the universe works. The bright, happy child I once was was just that, a child. Naive and uninformed.”_ _

__Frigga sighed and shook her head. “The future was so hard on your brother. The past was so hard on you. I pray what comes from this day forward will be better for both of you.”_ _

__“Life is hard, mother. You can’t protect us. I know you want to, you just… can’t.”_ _

__“I can try. That’s what a mother is for, you know. And a father as well. Right, Loki Judahfather?”_ _

__A thin, unwilling smile curled the furthest outside corner of Loki’s mouth. “That’s not how our names work, mother, you know that.” The smile vanished. “And you are not my mother.”_ _

__“Oh narjbilchr shit. Who am I if not your mother? Who is more your mother than I?”_ _

__“No one, of course, but that doesn’t make me your son.”_ _

__Her sigh this time was tempered by frustration. “Child, use that brain the ancestors gave you. How is it that fate blessed the both of us with powers of illusion mastery so similar to each other?”_ _

__“Unbelievable coincidence,” he said promptly. “A stopped clock is right twice a day, so too is fate.”_ _

__She stood up, crossed the floor, and slapped him smartly across the face. He stared at her with green eyes wide, her small handprint reddening on his cheek. “What did I do to deserve that?” he asked._ _

__“Plenty, but mostly call it a reprisal for rampaging stupidity,” she said, seating herself primly on the nearby chair._ _

__“Just what was I stupid about?” he said, stiffly, rubbing his cheek and eyeing her warily._ _

__“Think for a moment, perhaps it will come to you,” she said. “Get down from my desk and sit like a proper adult.”_ _

__He obediently jumped down and went to sit in the armchair to her left. “I still don’t see why you thought it necessary to employ corporal punishment.”_ _

__“Well, I apologize for that, my son, but sometimes even a mother’s patience can be pushed to an extreme too much to bear.”_ _

__“I apologize for pushing you,” he said, still eyeballing her. “Now will you tell me what I’m missing?”_ _

__“Odin told me I mustn’t,” Frigga said. Loki’s face darkened._ _

__“What is that bloated bastard keeping from me now?” he said._ _

__“I cannot tell you,” Frigga said. “But there is no reason that you cannot figure it out for yourself.”_ _

__“Fine, keep your damn secrets,” he said._ _

__She stood, came to stand over him, and lay her hands on his face. He flinched away from her and it hurt her heart to see it. “I am sorry, my son. This is a secret I never wished to have to keep.”_ _

__She walked back to her chair and sat back down, sweeping her skirts out of the way in a regal manner. “Now. What are you going to do about Hela?”_ _

__“What can I do? Even if I had the same faith in my sorcery that you seem to, I am woefully out of practice. I haven’t cast a serious offensive spell in longer than I spent learning them.”_ _

__She shook her head. “I don’t think that is something you could ever truly forget, my boy. But if you are set on having Odin unbind your powers, I am all for it. I feel it is high time.”_ _

__His eyes widened again. “You do?”_ _

__“Yes. You are an adult, if barely.”_ _

__“What if this power consumes me? Odin said it might. I might just burn up like a cinder, and take Asgard right along with me.”_ _

__“You’re stronger than that. You’re the strongest of all of us. You wouldn’t have made it back to us if you weren’t,” she said promptly, and he sat back as though struck in the sternum by a powerful blow. He didn’t have to ask: she wasn’t speaking about the time not long ago when he fell off the Rainbow Bridge and vanished into the cosmos. She was speaking about _then.__ _

__The ‘incident,’ as Thor was pleased to call it. Everyone else avoided speaking of it as much as possible, which was how Loki preferred it. Frigga had already mentioned it more in this one conversation than he had heard it mentioned in the last five hundred Asgardian years at the least. In truth, they treated him much as though any mention of it would send him shattering back into that broken place he’d come from. Frigga’s offhand remark was the first time any of them had suggested he had survived the experience by virtue of strength._ _

__“Well… thank you for the vote of confidence,” he said, trying and failing not to appear nonplussed. “You think then that this is what I should do?”_ _

__“I think it is entirely your decision,” she said. “Do what you feel you must, my boy.”_ _

__He nodded thoughtfully. “If I had more time to think it would be beneficial, however I fear that time is of the essence.”_ _

__“And you wish to get back to Midgard, I presume, as swiftly as possible,” she said._ _

__“That, too.”_ _

__“Well, my boy, pressed or not, I am certain you will come to the right decision.”_ _

__“How much would it take for you to lose faith in me exactly?” he asked._ _

__“Are you asking so you know how far you have to go, or how far not to go?” she answered._ _

__“Either or.”_ _

__She smiled. “Amazingly, my boy, you have a long way yet. A mother’s faith is not easily shaken. Even by very naughty boys indeed. Even though I will confess, you have indeed been very, very naughty.”_ _


	11. .................

Loki strode back into the throne room like a man on a mission. Thor immediately stood up and started apologizing.  
“Brother, you know I did not mean what I said. I’m sorry. The anger of late days just overwhelms me at times and takes command of my mouth and makes me say things I do not honestly think.”

“I don’t want to hear it and we don’t have time for it,” Loki said, raising a hand. “Odin, unbind me. We need to take care of this whole Ragnarok situation quickly, preferably before we have Malekith to deal with as well.”

“You are certain of this?” Odin asked.

“Mother agrees it’s for the best. She also agrees it’s my decision to make at this point in my life.”

“Your mother is a wise woman, but she has ever had a weakness for your big green eyes,” Odin said.

“You think she is wrong? Or that I have some undue influence over her? That I have her mesmerized, perhaps?” Loki said.

“You have mesmerized many in just such a way,” Odin said, regarding him steadily, “but no, Frigga is prone only to the selfsame weakness experienced by any mother.”

“Don’t let her catch you saying motherhood is a weakness,” Loki said. “She’ll kick your ass.”

Odin smiled a bit despite himself. “No doubt. Are we doing this, then? Guards, take the carpet runner out of the room for the time being. Loki, stand in the middle of the floor well away from the support pillars and anyone or anything that might burn.”

The royal guards immediately rolled up the long red carpet and carried it away. Loki walked to the middle of the throne room and stood there on the marble floor, half nervous, half derisive. “Is this safe enough for you?” he said.

“Not really, but it will do,” Odin said. He raised both hands. “Thor, whatever happens, keep well back.”

“I don’t like this, father,” Thor said, twirling Mjolnir.

“Necessity drives us to places we do not wish to go,” Odin said. “Loki, prepare yourself.”

“I’m ready,” Loki said.

“We are never truly ready,” Odin said. “We can only prepare to the best of our ability.”

“Can the lessons, old man. School time is over.”

“Only a fool thinks he is done learning, Loki.”

“And what have you learned lately?” Loki said.

“I have learned that I should have spent more time with you when you were a child.”

Loki blinked. “Well. The All-Father figures out he wasn’t such a great father after all. Keep exploring that, perhaps you’ll learn a bit more about yourself. After all, isn’t self-exploration such a large part of Asgardian spirituality? Seems to me the chief god of the damn pantheon should be into that sort of thing.”

“You loved me once,” Odin said. “When did we turn the corner into this naked hatred?”

“Around the time I realized every word out of your mouth was a gold-plated lie. You’ve even got mother lying to me.”

“She is not lying. She is simply unable to tell you the truth.”

“And you see a distinction in that? Marvelous.”

“Can you not be satisfied that we love you, no matter whose blood runs in your veins? You are our child, mine and Frigga’s both.”

“I have fifteen hundred years of memories that puts the lie to that statement, father,” Loki said. “You let me fall.”

“I did not let you fall, boy. You let go.”

“And I’m sure you were so broken up about it.”

Odin cocked his head to the left and regarded Loki silently for a moment. “It hit me hard, but not so hard as it did Frigga, I will confess. Did you ever think for one moment what your actions did to her? How she wept for you?”

Loki drew himself up and pretended not to care. “We may be aging slowly but we are all aging. Shouldn’t we be on with it? Before Malekith arrives?”

“Very well,” Odin said. “It is done.”

Loki fell to the floor instantly, and there was a rush of sound like a gust of heavy wind. He did not burst into flame, he became flame, head to foot, roaring and raging and white-hot. Thor swore and started up. Odin raised a hand and silenced him.

“Whether he can or cannot regain control, all our fates depend upon Loki now,” he said. “It is not so bad as I had feared it might be. He is strong.”

“This is not bad?” Thor said, cringing back from the heat baking off his brother. “The floor is melting.”  
Indeed it was. The fine white marble had turned into thick red lava directly beneath Loki’s body and it surged beneath him as he rode lightly on top of it, seemingly unfazed.

“It will reharden,” Odin said calmly. “If he can regain control.”

“And if he can’t?” Thor asked.

“Then we are all doomed.”

There was an ungodly shrieking sound coming from the flames that still vaguely bore Loki’s shape. Eventually they realized that the shrieks were in the form of words. Curses, to be precise. Not simply Asgardian curses, but profanities in many languages, some not even those of beings.

“Do you know what he’s saying?” Thor said to Odin.

“I do not possess the Dragon Tongue,” Odin said. “All the languages I speak I have had to learn the hard way, as you have. However, what I can pick out is extremely rude.”

“I suppose I understand,” Thor said.

A few long minutes passed, threatening a wide swath of flooring as Loki squirmed and flailed, but eventually the fire dimmed, the shrieking calmed, and eventually he extinguished himself and lay panting on what solid marble remained. A few minutes more, and the lava reformed into swirls and whorls of malformed marble flooring.

“That makes for an interesting conversation point,” Thor said, nodding at the new shape of the floor. “The court will have much to say about that.”

“I will have it smoothed out,” Odin said. “As it stands, it presents an impediment to walking.”

“You could have warned me,” Loki said, his voice low and ragged.

“I tried to,” Odin said. “I, however, did not know precisely what would transpire, so I could not tell you what precisely would happen. What then could I tell you other than to prepare yourself? Are you ready to continue?”

“I think… I need a moment to recover,” Loki said, snarling the words out.

“I thought as much. You may not believe me, my boy, but I am proud of the strength you have shown today. I am aware of how difficult such wild powers are to contain. You have done well.”

“My, so effusive. I’m all aglow,” Loki said, still snarling. “Oh wait – that was a moment ago.”

“I would think your recent experiences would be teaching you how difficult it is to be a father, and you would have developed a touch of sympathy for me,” Odin said. “I see this is not the case.”

“If it wasn’t for you I would have found out what it is to be a father long ago.”

“Don’t you mean mother?” Thor said. Loki sputtered, fumed, and smoke began to rise from his ears and nose.

“Calm down,” Odin said. “Don’t lose control now. You know you were too young to raise a… a _child._ Too young and far and away too irresponsible.”

“You didn’t even give me a choice.”

“You were too young to make it. You should never have been in that position, it was a mark of your immaturity that you were.”

“It was a mark of your stupidity that I was put in that position,” Loki fired back. “If you hadn’t gambled mother’s life away I never would have done it. What makes you think you have that kind of power just because you’re king? She’s your wife, for ancestor’s sake!”

Odin sat very still and quiet on the throne for a long moment, gripping Gungnir so tightly his knuckles were white.

“I suggest you go to your room and rest for a time, Loki,” he said, in a voice that betrayed how tightly he was controlling true temper. “You are, after all, the one who wishes to move things along. The faster you are on your feet, the faster we can have it all done.”

Loki drew himself to his feet with some difficulty. “Very well. Is it where I left it, or have I been relegated to the dungeons?”

“Everything is as you remember,” Odin said, “although Frigga may have moved some things about while she was grieving you.”

“Fine. Goodbye.”


	12. .................

Everything was not as he remembered. The mystical artifacts he had long ago carefully tucked away in storage were out on his shelves and stands in the places they’d stood when he was much, much younger. Frigga must have unpacked them, perhaps wishing to reconnect to the quiet, studious boy she had cared for.

“I’m not that boy any longer,” he said aloud. “You couldn’t expect me to be, could you? After all the lies, all the drama. That boy is… dead.”

“Such a shame,” Frigga said, appearing out of nowhere like a ghost.

“I knew you followed me here,” he said, not turning to look at her.

“Of course you did. In any event, I always knew the boy was just a pupa, but the shame is that the final form must be this vicious, rage-fueled creature that stands before me today.”  
“Odin deserved every word I said to him,” Loki said.

“I never said he did not. But you still did not need to say them. You could have been better than that.”

“So, what? I should apologize to him? For destroying my life?”

“You destroyed your own life. Just as you are now putting it back together,” Frigga said. “I’m not saying Odin did not hurt you. He clearly did. But part of being an adult, my boy, is taking responsibility for your own actions. And your own mistakes.”

“Are you saying that saving you from the clutches of that giant was a mistake?” Loki said. “Are you saying that Sleipnir was a mistake?”

She raised her hands placatingly. “No, my boy. That was a time where Odin’s mistakes forced you to do what you felt was necessary, and I would never call my grandson a mistake, no matter how he came into the world or any… difficulty… he may face because of it. I was speaking of the whole debacle beginning with Thor’s preempted succession.”

“Odin never would have considered me for his heir,” Loki said bitterly. “I always knew it, but I didn’t know why. Now I do, that’s all.”

“Odin did consider you for his heir,” Frigga said. “Long and hard. Thor is strong in many things but he is not particularly bright, as gods go, and you far outshine him in that arena. Odin long considered the idea that you had the potential to become truly wise.”

“And decided that I did not.”

Frigga sighed. “You are the god of mischief. Your heart is full of pranks and mayhem. You stand before me as a man, but even this angry man you have become is still very childlike in many ways. Odin thought that even if you had the wisdom to deal with the trials and duties of the throne… it would be tortuous for you. He felt you’d suffered enough.”

“So he thought me too weak to deal with it.”

Frigga shook her head. “No, my boy. You see? If you had achieved a degree of that wisdom for which he had seen your potential, you would know he did not think you too weak. The cold, hard truth is that if Odin did not love you, he would have put you on the throne.”

Frigga favored him with a long, significant look, then swept out of the room with her skirts trailing her, leaving him dumbfounded.


	13. ..................

Loki returned to the throne room in a subdued manner, much different from the way he’d left it.

“Are you feeling better?” Thor asked, a touch sarcastically. Loki raised a hand.

“Regardless of feelings, things need to be done. I am ready to do my duty by Asgard, Father.”

“That is the first time you have called me that since you fell that it has not sounded peevish and sarcastic,” Odin said. “What changed?”

“Nothing,” Loki said, a little snappish now, and shook his head. “But there is work to be done. Let us do it.”

“I will summon Heimdall from the Observatory,” Odin said. “With his aid, I can send you to Helheim, where Hela awaits. Engage her there, and she will never threaten Asgard.”

“You’re sending me to Helheim?” Loki said, wide-eyed. “Are you going to bring me back?”

“Assuming you survive,” Odin said, with a touch of a smile hiding beneath his beard. “Even with all your power, I expect you to use all your guile to defeat her. She is more than merely formidable. She is, after all, the goddess of death itself. Fire is one of the primary elemental forces, and someday perhaps your power will rival hers, but you have little control over it as yet. You hide it well, but I can see that it takes much of your strength just to rein it in.”

Loki had become visibly paler at his words. “Enough talk. Call Heimdall, if you are going to.”

“He is already on his way,” Odin said.

The noble gatekeeper entered the throne room in due time, tall and stalwart and bearing the aura of several millions of patient years of watchfulness about him. Loki had known Heimdall all his life, had learned much from him. He had been much like a second father to him, in fact, as much as a servant could be to a prince. Heimdall hadn’t made the faintest sign that Loki’s betrayal of the throne or of himself was hurtful or even surprising. And he hadn’t hesitated to raise arms against him when Loki had relieved him of service during that debacle. Did that hurt Loki? He tried not to think about it much.

He saluted. “You summoned me, my King,” he said.

“I did. Loki must travel to Helheim to do battle with my daughter, Hela, for the sake of ending or at least postponing the threat of Ragnarok,” Odin said. “He cannot take the tesseract. If it fell into her hands, she could go wherever she pleased within the universe. Thus, we are forced to summon the Dark Energy. I cannot do it alone, not for such a journey, so I call upon you, my old friend, to aid me.”

“We cannot wait for the reconstruction of the Bifrost?” Heimdall asked, turning a questioning eye upon Loki as though wondering whether he really had it in him to do what Odin said. “It is nearly complete. A few weeks more only.”

“Weeks up here constitute years on Midgard,” Loki said. “I don’t have the time to hang around.”

Heimdall nodded slowly. “The orphan boy. I understand. Very well, if you are certain.”

“Are you ready?” Odin said, looking at Loki.

“As I shall ever be, I presume.”

“Then let us begin.”

The King and his Gatekeeper raised their hands and closed their eyes, and a great force rose up around them to surround Loki where he stood. And then, darkness.

Helheim was not a land of fire as he had heard in the ancient stories. Perhaps they had confused it with Muspelheim, one of the two lands that had existed before time. Helheim was instead very dark, and very cold. Loki had never been much bothered by either condition, but he found this darkness, and this cold, quite disturbing. It was the darkness and cold of death, and it was something an immortal god could never fully understand.

“Who comes to this land of death? You are different from the countless pathetic mortals who arrive here by the minute,” a smooth female voice drifted in from nowhere. “You are alive. And you… are a god.”

“I am Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard,” he said, trying to locate the source of the voice. “I was betrayed. Odin lied to me. He promised me the throne and then gave it to my brother. When I tried to take what was mine by right he tossed me here.”

“Ah, brother mine,” the woman said, sounding interested and more than a little amused. “Well do I know how little you can trust our father.”

“Our father? You mean he’s your father as well? Who are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Your eyes will accustom yourself to the darkness in time,” she said, chuckling a little. “I have been here for so long now I see nearly as well as by daylight in Asgard. But perhaps you will not have so long to wait as I have. The old man is weakening. Keeping you held here as well as I will surely drain his strength swiftly. You and I could see the sun again before much time has passed. Perhaps an accord could be reached between us. We could be of use to each other.”

“You are proposing an alliance? That… could be beneficial. My brother – our… brother Thor is mighty, and with the army behind him it would not be easy to dethrone him.”

“You understand that as the eldest, I am the natural heir to the throne. Not you. And I dare say, whatever your powers may be, I am very much more powerful than you.”

“What powers do you possess?” Loki said.

“The power of death!” the woman crowed. “This Thor and all his armies will cower before me! But a good lieutenant is always welcome. So? Brother? Will you join me?”

“I… know when I’m outmatched. I will be your lieutenant. The throne is yours.”

“I like a god who knows when to surrender.” The voice was very much closer now. Loki was almost certain he could see her, a vague outline, a darker shadow in the darkness. “Foolish pride and outmoded heroics are such a waste of potential. And you have such potential. I can tell.”

“Odin used to say much the same, until he betrayed me,” Loki said.

“Odin is like that, dearie,” the woman said, and now Loki was certain he could see her shadowy form in the darkness, quite close at hand. “He used me, too, to build his own glory. Then, when I began to seek my own, he cast me down here with tricks and lies.”

“Likewise. I led his armies, planned his strategies… then when I made one move to secure my own place in history, he turned on me.”

“So then we are together. There will be glory enough for both of us when we are through, I guarantee you.”

“So long as you can ‘guarantee’ me revenge against my brother Thor, then I am with you,” he said.

“Oh, I can guarantee that. You will have your revenge. Let us shake hands on it.”

A cold hand clasped his. “A handshake? So official. You are all the family I have left. Give us a hug, Sister,” Loki said. He drew her into his arms and released his tenuous grasp over his powers. He burst into flame immediately.

“Oh bugger,” she said. They were her last coherent words. In a matter of moments, she was nothing but ash.

Loki fell to the ground and struggled to regain control. It was hard the first time; if anything, it was only harder now. One good thing, though; the ground here seemed impervious to melting somehow, or perhaps he was not burning hot enough, despite having reduced a god to ash in seconds.

Eventually he managed to bring it under control. “Heimdall,” he said, gasping where he lay face-up on the ground, “I’m ready.”

_We will bring you home now, my Prince,_ the Gatekeeper said in his mind, and Loki felt the rush of the Dark Energy rise up around him almost immediately. He would have wished he had been able to stand on his feet first, but it was what it was. He picked himself up off the throne room floor before Heimdall and Odin and a very amused-looking Thor.

“So, had a rough go of it, then?” Thor said, chuckling a little.

“Actually, Hela gave him no difficulty,” Heimdall said, before Loki could summon the scathing retort he wished to make. “It was in regaining control of his powers that he found a battle.”

“How did he take her?” Odin asked.

“With trickery,” Heimdall said. “He drew her in by proclaiming himself another child cast away by Odin the Deceiver. She was quite willing to believe him. Almost hungry to believe him.”

“Loki ever had the power to talk the rain into falling,” Odin said.

“I think you’re confusing me with Thor,” Loki said. “The dumb blond? He’s the one who makes it rain.”

“If you have no further need of me, I should return to my post,” Heimdall said. “Malekith may arrive at any moment. I should be there to greet him warmly.”

“Yes, go, my friend,” Odin said. “Boys, when you are ready, I would ask that you join him. Malekith is surely on his way. It will not be long before his arrival.”


	14. ...............

“So,” Thor said, standing at parade rest beside Loki at the end of the still-broken and now under reconstruction Bifrost Bridge. “God of fire. What’s that like, eh?”

“So. God of dunderheads. What’s that like, eh?” Loki said.

Thor elbowed him in the ribs. Not hard, just enough to knock him off balance. “Come on, I’m serious. Fire is a big deal. You’ve finally hit the big time, little bro.”

“Oh yes, because elemental power is so much bigger a deal than anything else,” Loki said, rolling his eyes. “Please, it’s the first thing they teach an apprentice of the mystical arts.”

“That’s magic, little bro. This is god power. That’s a whole other bag of wax.”

“Ball of wax, you imbecile.”

“Whatever. Only the strongest gods command elemental power. Father, myself… and now you.”

“I’m honored to stand in your august company,” Loki said, not sounding a whit as though that were true.

“So, what’s it like?” Thor said.

“What’s what like?” Loki said, irritated.

“Being god of fire?”

“Imagine burning to death but not having the mercy of actually dying.”

Thor winced. “That bad? I kind of thought maybe it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Perhaps it won’t, when I have gotten accustomed to it.”

“Well, I hope it is so. You are… dealing with it admirably well.”

“I am quite accustomed to torture.”

Thor winced again. “Listen, I’m sorry for poking you about that. I know better than anyone what you went through in that place. I understand why you would… have difficulty putting it by.”

Loki favored him with a wilting look. “You ‘understand?’ You don’t understand, brother. You don’t even begin to understand. Have Odin show you the hours and hours of holospheres they sent him, sometime. Then perhaps you’ll begin to ‘understand.’ That is, if he kept them. He probably didn’t. Bad for his legacy.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, I was there, brother, I saw –”

“You saw nothing,” Loki snapped. “You came bursting in like a hurricane, as you always do, destroyed everything in your path, and all glory fell upon your head as it always does. You saw nothing but your objective, which was to secure for yourself more honor.”

Thor drew back, affronted. “I went in there looking to get my brother back, nothing more. Do you really think I gave a single thought to glory or honor? You do not know me, brother.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Thor turned to him and took hold of his arm so that Loki had to half-turn toward him. “I do not know whence comes this sudden hatred of our father or whether it is justified or not, but how can you doubt my love for you?” Thor said. “All our lives we were brothers, and the best of friends. Perhaps there were things between us that made you… feel… slighted… but believe me when I say that I never realized it. Brother, even at my worst, if I had known you wanted the throne I would have happily shared it with you.”

Loki shook him off. “But you didn’t. And you know what? I highly doubt Odin would allow you to do that.”

“Boys, do not bicker,” Heimdall said. “Malekith, you will recall, will be here soon, and I, as you’ll recall, have no ability to see his shielded ships until they are upon us.”

“A good point,” Thor said, straightening up to parade rest again. “Perhaps this time is better spent in planning some kind of strategy. We took heavy losses in the original timeline.”

“I have our strategy,” Loki said.

“Oh?” Thor said, turning a raised eyebrow upon him.

“When the flagship comes in close, I jump up onto it, release my powers, and burn it to the ground. No more Malekith, no more Kursed,” Loki said. “Hopefully everything will fall into the sea, even more hopefully the sea will extinguish the wreckage rather than evaporating completely. It’s almost flawless.”

“Almost,” Thor said sarcastically. “What happens to you in this scenario? It sounds as though you get swallowed by the sea.”

“The alternative seems to be that I get consumed by my powers. I’ll take the one that doesn’t bring Ragnarok.”

Thor grabbed him again. “I won’t let you martyr yourself.”

Loki plucked his hands away. “I don’t think you have much of a choice. It’s me or mother, and since I’m on the verge of destroying everything as surely as Hela would have done, I think the choice is obvious.”

“You are not going to bring Ragnarok.”

“I’m losing control. It’s getting harder and harder to maintain my grasp.”

“How do you even know you can burn hot enough to destroy something that large?” Thor said.

“Don’t worry. I know. I haven’t let the power get control to that point, but I know.”

“If you do, how do you know you won’t destroy everything anyway?” Thor said, grabbing him and staring hard into his eyes.

“I don’t,” he said, and there was a note of desperation in his voice. “But we need a swift and certain answer to the problem of Malekith, or there will be great destruction. I think the sea will consume most of the devastation, if I’m lucky. Might put the fishing down for a time, but we’re not great fishermen. The sea should have time to heal before we starve for lack of fish.   
Assuming the sea and anything in it at all survives.”

“That’s a damned big assumption, brother.”

“I know. But our defenses and armies cannot be weakened when Thanos arrives.”

“You believe, then, that he will come here?”

“I do.”

“We will crush him, brother.”

“I am not so sanguine about that myself, brother. If father were in his prime I am sure we could crush him handily, but Odin has grown old and tired. There is no god to take his place as God of War.”

Thor drew himself up stiffly. “What about me? Father taught me the art of War.”

“And you were a piss poor student. War is more than just bashing people’s heads in with a hammer, brother. War is strategy and planning, and every bit as much about knowing when not to go dashing in swinging. No, brother, you will never be fit to bear the title God of War. Not unless you learn a little something about finesse.”

“So I suppose then that you should bear it,” Thor said.

Loki shook his head, his eyes closed. “No, brother. I have always fought you on the point, but you were right all along. I lack… the necessary courage.”

Thor shifted in discomfort. “You are braver than I have ever given you credit for, brother,” he said. “We faced countless horrors together in battle and you never flinched, never backed down. Even… even after they let you out of the army.”

“Master of Illusions,” Loki said, smiling sickly. “I was always afraid.”

“True courage is to stand and fight in the face of fear,” Heimdall said. “And while I hate to interrupt this moment of confessional, we have visitors.”

Thor stepped forward. “Malekith?”

Heimdall nodded. “Indeed. His ship is cloaked but it is close enough that I can see it now, though only because I knew it would be coming.”

“Heimdall, talk sense to Loki. This idea of his is suicide,” Thor said.

“Actually, it’s the best plan we have,” Heimdall said. “He is quite correct: If Thanos is coming for the Infinity Stones, and it is most probable that he is, then we cannot afford to weaken our defenses with a prolonged battle of attrition against Malekith and the Kursed. Swift and complete destruction is our best hope, assuming we do not get caught up in it ourselves.”

“What if we do?” Thor said.

“A risk we have to take,” Heimdall said. “Malekith is here.”


	15. ...................

The tall, dark ship uncloaked before them, appearing out of the darkness off-world like a monster popping out of a child’s nightmare. Loki immediately turned to Thor.

“Fling me,” he said.

“What?” Thor said, taken aback.

“I cannot leap so far and levitation is slow. It is imperative that I reach the ship before it reaches the city. Fling me.”

“Do it,” Heimdall said. “You are the only one with the strength.”

“Brother,” Thor pleaded.

“No time for useless sentiment, just fling me,” Loki said, and he punched Thor squarely in the jaw, though nowhere nearly as hard as he could have. “Fling me and then both of you run to evacuate the shoreline.”

Heimdall nodded calmly, and put a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “You will see your brother again,” he said to him. “Now do what must be done.”

Thor grabbed Loki by the shoulder and the armor at his waist and flung him as hard and as far as he could, which slammed him face-first into the side of the approaching ship. He drew his daggers and buried them into the multi-plated hull to improve what he had to grip with. He could not let go yet. He had to give them time to get clear, and the ship had to be over the deepest part of the sea. He had a few moments left to breathe.

But not long. The ship picked up speed as it closed on its target. If he missed his moment, he would burn the ship and all of Asgard to the ground. He could not let that happen. For the first and last time, he completely released his control of his powers of flame. His body burst into a molten state, and in the span of a human heartbeat, so too did the flagship. Pieces began to fall off and drop into the sea, sending up great clouds of steam. In a short while, the entire flaming wreck dropped out of the air and into the water, sending a huge tidal wave crashing into the Rainbow Bridge and the shore. But when the steam cleared and the water receeded, the already half-wrecked bridge was as intact as it had been before the water struck, and the sturdy Asgardian architecture along the shoreline had taken little damage. Thanks to Thor and Heimdall’s swift evacuations, there was no loss of life.

Thor and Heimdall walked onto the wet and slippery bridge, watching the still-steaming water. Thor’s shoulders were slumped and his face was a thundercloud. “I suppose there are worse ways to die,” he said, and there were tears in his voice. “With Malekith’s flagship destroyed, the army will destroy what remains without difficulty. My brother is a hero.”

“He is not dead,” Heimdall said. “The waters near where he lies are very hot. When they cool, I will go after him.”

“Where is he? I will go after him myself,” Thor said, his face clearing instantly as he went immediately into action mode.

“Still yourself. He is unconscious, under the water. Without my eyes to guide you, you would swim until you drowned yourself and never find him. He will be all right for another hour or so before the lack of breath starts to become an issue. And if he wakens, he could always turn himself into a fish or something else that breathes under water.”

Thor allowed himself to settle. “You’re right. But he won’t sink too far out of reach?”

“He has sunk to the bottom already,” Heimdall said. “Fortunately, he fell in a relatively shallow section of the sea. I believe, before he lost consciousness, he may have jumped away from the ship as it was going down.”

“Nothing down there that could eat him?” Thor asked, feeling a resurgence of anxiety.

Heimdall shook his head. “Not nearby. Loki was right, the heat of the burning put the local sea life down considerably. It will take some time to heal.”

“Do you think there will be broiled fish washing up on the shoreline soon?” Thor asked. “We could, I suppose, get some use out of that.”

“It’s almost a certainty,” Heimdall said, “although a great deal of it in the immediate vicinity was melted in the same way as the ship. As to being able to use it, I think there may be more than we know what to do with.”

“Well, we could donate it around to the other realms, perhaps,” Thor said.

The men stood quietly for a time, and then Heimdall nodded. “I think the waters have cooled. Fish that survived further off have begun to venture in. I shall retrieve the Prince immediately.”

He walked to the edge of the bridge and dove into the water below without another word. He was gone a long time, but Thor waited semi-patiently, and he returned eventually, towing a still-unconscious Loki in his wake. Thor knelt by the edge of the bridge and helped bring him out of the water, then helped Heimdall back up as well. The two gods stood, one dripping, over the body of the third.

“He should be taken to the Royal Healer,” Heimdall prompted. “Regaining control of his powers after unleashing them so fully may not have been completely his idea – the waters may have had something to do with it – but it took quite a toll on him, physically and perhaps mentally as well. He should be examined.”

“Oh. Of course. I’ll take him to Eir right away,” Thor said, and he hoisted his brother over his shoulder and walked away.


	16. ...................

“How are you feeling?” Frigga said. She was his first sight upon opening his eyes.

“Like an enchilada freshly-pulled from a microwave, if slightly less cheesy. But I can get there, I’m sure of it,” Loki said, his voice weak but his smile genuine.

“What’s an enchilada?” Frigga said.

“Something I discovered on Midgard. I shall have to introduce you to them, mother, they are quite the innovation. And Teddy Grahams. Did you know that Midgardian children like to eat food that looks like living creatures? No wonder humans are such uncivil monsters.”

“You tried one,” Frigga said. It was not a question.

“Of course I did. They are very tasty, especially the chocolate ones. The dinosaur-shaped chicken chunks, however, barely qualify as foodstuffs. I cannot comprehend Judah’s love of them. Pudding cups are okay, although tapioca is questionable. Tasty enough, but what are those little fish eggs doing floating about in there? Are they going to hatch? Go-Gurt… not my thing. And Fruit Rollups frighten me.”

Frigga grinned. “I think you may be slightly delirious, my boy.”

“Perhaps.”

“Eir says that there is nothing physically wrong with you except for a case of exhaustion, so after a bit of a rest, you can go home.”

“How long have I been here?” Loki asked.

“A few hours, no longer.”

He struggled to rise. “I cannot waste so much time.”

She pushed him back down. “You have to rest, my boy. Trust those who care for your Judah in your absence to have the keeping of him for a few hours longer.”

“Hours here are days on Midgard. I have to go.”

“You have to rest. If you go back now before you’re ready, you’re likely to lose control of your powers,” Frigga said. “Do you want that?”

Loki fell back against the pillow, eyes wide. “No,” he said.

“Then lay down and shut up. The boy will be fine for a bit longer. It will be much better to hug him without the potential of burning him alive.”

“I want Odin to bind my powers again,” Loki said.

Frigga passed a comforting hand across his brow and over his hair. “Loki, if he does that, he will play Hel to keep them bound, just as he did for all those years of your life. Doing that and keeping Hela locked away in Helheim ate away at him and pushed him ever closer to death. Do you want to be the reason your father dies?”

Only a short while ago, that nasty, vicious voice inside of him would have piped up instantly with “Yes.” This time, he didn’t hear it. He was back to the lost child that had looked up at his father from where he dangled off the edge of the Bifrost, clinging for life to the end of Gungnir. It seemed he once again had a choice to make: let go, or hold on.

“No, mother, I wouldn’t,” he said. He swallowed hard and continued. “I don’t want father to die.”

“I am glad to hear you say so. I begin to feel as though you may be coming back to us.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps I was… slightly wrongheaded in my thinking that… all… my problems… were the fault of Odin and Thor.”

She smiled beamingly at him. “It’s hard to admit, isn’t it? Taking responsibility for our own lives is never easy, but it is a big step towards real maturity.”

“Maturity is highly overrated, but when you’ve laid witness to the destruction of everything you know and love…” Loki said.

“That reminds me,” Frigga said. “I always meant to ask you what you did to the Loki who should have been in this timeline. You did not kill him, did you?”

Loki’s eyes went wide again. “Why mother, I have no idea what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, I know full well you traveled from the future to take your own past self’s place. I want to know what you did with him. Did you kill him?”

“Mother, future me died.”

“Yes, yes, three times or so, if I heard correctly. The last time of a broken neck? You’re losing your touch, boy.”

He huffed out a noisy breath through his nose. “Say, for the sake of argument, that I am from the future. Wouldn’t past me deserve to die for the things he did?”

“But you couldn’t have killed him or you yourself would be dead now. Ah ha! Catch Twenty-two!” Frigga said. “So how did you dispose of him? And what’s to stop him from showing up and wreaking paradoxical havoc?”

“Say again, for the sake of argument, that I did take out my past self; you can assume it took trickery on levels even I have never before achieved.”

“And, for the sake of argument, where would he be now?”

“Falling eternally through a cyclical wormhole in time and space that I created. His fall won’t end until I open it and let him out.”

“Oo, that’s rather brutal.”

“It won’t hurt him. Perhaps he’ll have time to think.”

“If he can think for all the screaming.”

“You stop screaming after the first few minutes.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“It’s an effective means of keeping someone occupied and out of the way.”

“So you kidnapped him, took his place in… I’m assuming Germany… played out history in the manner it had happened, and let things go from there, knowing that future Stark was coming to steal the Tesseract? Or just meaning to make a play for it yourself?” Frigga said.

“Knowing Stark was coming for it.”

“Why then did you unleash the Chitauri afterward?” she asked, giving him the Stink Eye.

“Because everyone, and I mean Thanos more than anyone else, would be quite interested to know why I did not. I did my best to mitigate the damage they created, and I stuck around afterward to help clean up, though I knew I was in danger.”

“And you stayed well clear of the Hulk,” Frigga said, nodding.

He winced. “I wasn’t going to go through that twice, no matter whether I deserve it or not.”

“I can hardly blame you for that.”

“Mother, you won’t tell anyone about this… will you?”

“While I think it is perfectly understandable for me to be upset that there is a version of my son currently falling infinitely through space, I am quite happy to learn that another version of my son is alive and well when all thought he was dead, so we’ll call it even for now. And I am the goddess of secrets, am I not? You can trust me with this.”

“Thank you, mother. I should not like to explain this to Thor, for starters. I am quite certain he would hit me.”

“You should tell him, though. You should tell everyone. When you are ready, of course, but you should. Keeping secrets like this engenders mistrust, and you don’t need any more of that.”

“I… will bear that in mind.”

Frigga stood up and smoothed out her skirts. “I have said enough. I will go now, and leave you to rest. Try and get some sleep, my boy. You need it sorely.”


	17. ...................

Odin offered to send them back, and Heimdall did too, but Loki turned them both down, saying he was strong enough to summon the Dark Energy needed to send himself and Thor back to Midgard without assistance. He was stubborn and wished to do this because he needed to see that he had the strength to keep command of his powers despite putting significant strain on himself. He had rested, he felt, more than long enough, allowing Eir and Frigga to fuss over him for most of the remainder of the Asgardian day. He was anxious to return to Judah, and he felt certain that Judah would be anxiously awaiting his return.

He could be wrong, though. Judah could be getting on gangbusters with Coulson and have forgotten all about him. Coulson had that folksy, friendly way about him to which a child would respond well, despite his being a bona fide moron, and Midgardian children seemed to be a fickle lot. Judah had started calling him “Daddy” before he had stopped weeping about the loss of his real parents. Though he sometimes felt that was a calculated maneuver on the child’s part to try and win him over.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Thor asked, nudging him. “Aren’t we going? You look like you’re a million miles away already.”

“Sorry. I’ll conjure now,” Loki said, and summoned the Dark Energy. It was not the relatively swift trip from Asgard to Helheim, Midgard being many millions of lightyears farther away, but in good time they stood on the Quinjet landing pad on the roof of Stark Tower.

“Hey, fellas, welcome back,” Tony said, starting up out of the arm chair he was lounging in and tilting down his sunglasses. He set aside his scotch and soda and came to greet them. “Everything cleared up on the Old Home Front?”

“For the time being,” Thor said. “Thanos remains a threat to be dealt with, but Loki was anxious to return to the boy.”

“Ah. Good. He’s been something of a handful for poor Phil.”

“What? What do you mean?” Loki said, on the alert.

“What can I say? The kid has bad taste.”

“What do you mean?” Loki said, grinding his teeth.

“Go down to your rooms and see for yourself. Give Phil the break he so richly deserves.”

Loki immediately stalked off for the elevators. Tony looked at Thor and said, “So, did you boys have fun?”

“I felt rather superfluous, actually. Loki did all the heavy lifting this time. But he did open up to me… a bit. It was a beginning, I feel.”

“What, you think he’s coming around?” Tony said skeptically.

“Let us say perhaps there are signs that there is less distance between this version of my brother and the version of my brother that died at the hands of Thanos in the future than I had thought. Not that this is saying much.”

“That version of your brother tried to sell you into slavery to save his own neck,” Tony pointed out.

“But he also gave me a hug and admitted that I could be a good king. Future me told me so.”

On a lower floor, Loki had just reached the door of his apartment. Suspicious sounds came from inside. He didn’t bother searching for the key he kept hidden in his many pockets, instead he simply popped the lock open with magic and stepped inside. “Judah?” he called.

“DADDY!!!”

Pounding feet, and he was tackled around the knees by a small figure in a bright orange hoodie and yellow board shorts. Coulson must have let the boy dress himself. Of greater import was the fact that the boy was squeezing his knees together so tightly that he found himself slightly off balance, which was a more disconcerting feeling than one might realize given that he was a being who prided himself on being completely centered at all times. He actually thought that he might… in all possibility… fall down…

The sense of being off-kilter overtook him and down he went, landing on his ass with a crash. Judah transferred his grip from his knees to his shoulders and buried his little face against his neck, and was he actually crying? Shaken again, Loki awkwardly patted the boy’s back in an attempt to calm him.

“Daddy, where were you? You were gone so long I thought you’d abandoned me!”

“Yes, I am sorry about that, Judah. I tried to return sooner, I truly did, but I was detained. Lines of communication between Asgard and Midgard are… well, they are pretty much non-existent, so I could not send word. Coul – Agent Coulson was with you, was he not? Did you not get along?”

“I tried,” Coulson said, appearing at the edge of the living room. “It seems I was an unacceptable substitute. We reached détente eventually, but he never really was happy to be here with me and not you. There were a lot of tears.”

“Well I’m here now, Judah, you can stop crying. And please do let me up,” Loki said.

The boy sniffled and backed away. “You won’t go away again, will you?” he said plaintively.

“I cannot promise that, Judah. The Avengers may call upon me to go with them to many far-flung places. And there may come a time when I must return to Asgard.”

“Take me with you!” Judah pleaded.

“I can’t. The work is too dangerous. You have to stay safe. Agent Coulson will keep you safe when I cannot.”

“But Phil’s not you!”

“Phil? You call him Phil? I guess détente really was achieved.”

“He said I should,” the boy said. “Should I not?”

“No, you go right ahead,” he said. He wondered a bit about the front he was putting up and whether it was crumbling to dust about his feet, but he chose not to worry about it. “Have you eaten your dinner?”

“Yeah, Phil gave me chicken nuggets.”

“Is that all you ate?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow. Judah sighed.

“And mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus, and yes, I ate it all.”

“That’s my boy. Get ready for your bath. Much as I hate to say it, it’s almost bedtime.”

“Aw, can’t I stay up?”

“No. Little mortals aren’t made for long days. Now mind me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” the boy said, and trotted off to his bedroom to prepare.

“He minds you a lot better than he does me,” Coulson said, stepping closer as Loki climbed to his feet. “How do you get him to eat his vegetables? Does he fight you? I had to resort to bribery.”

“Bribery? You bribed my son to get him to do something he should do as a matter of course? I knew my misgivings about leaving him in your charge were justified.”

“Hey, cut me some slack, I’m new to this parenting thing,” Coulson said. “I’ve never even been an uncle before.”

“You are not a parent. You are not even an uncle. You are simply a glorified babysitter.”

“Then I definitely need a raise,” Coulson said, with the quirk of a smile.

“What?” Loki said, without one.

“Hey, I like Judah, don’t get me wrong. I hang around him and I start to think there must even be something to be said for you, though I haven’t really seen it yet. But if all I’m doing is babysitting then I need to raise my rates ‘cause this past week was hell.”

Loki paused. “Week? Was it really that long?”

“You don’t know how long you were gone?” Coulson said.

“Time passes differently in Asgard. Days are very much longer and hours last longer, too. I’m aware of the conversion rates, but… well, I’ve never actually experienced them. Time passes so swiftly in Midgard that it’s quite ludicrous. Even when I fell to Titan I barely noticed the time differential. It was not so drastic there, and it did not matter so much as I did not have a small being dependent upon my every waking move. And my head was… different… there.”

“What does that mean?” Coulson asked.

“Well, from the time I awoke there to the time that… I took a strong blow during the battle of New York, my self-control was not entirely my own.”

“The Mind Stone. You were under its control the same as Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig,” Coulson said.

“Perhaps. Not, however, in the same way. They had virtually no command of themselves after being subjected to the Mind Stone. I had quite a little. I was… influenced, however… by the owner of the staff.”

“Thanos.”

“Thanos.”

Judah appeared at the doorway of the bathroom, wrapped in a tiny maroon bathrobe. “I’m ready, Daddy,” he said. He squeaked the rubber ducky he held in his little hand.

“You’ll excuse me, Agent, I need to run a bath for my son.”

“Yeah, I’ll get out of your hair. Have a good evening. Give Judah an extra tight hug before you tuck him in, he needs it.”

Phil left, Loki ran Judah a bath, the boy washed up and played until the water cooled, and then Loki tucked him into bed. He stayed up for a time, restless with nothing whatsoever to do, and then gave up and went to bed himself, not remotely tired as he had spent the last few Asgardian hours resting. Then, around ten or so, his bedroom door creaked open, and a small figure padded into the room and leaped into his bed.

“Judah, what in Helheim are you doing?” he said, as the boy snuggled down next to him.

“I can’t sleep. I keep thinking I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”

“Judah, I won’t be gone. You have to get over this.”

“I can’t. First my parents left me, then you did… I was so scared.”

“Judah, your parents didn’t want to leave you. Neither did I.”

“You did, though,” Judah said quietly. “When we first met. I know you did. You didn’t want to be stuck with me.”

“It crossed my mind, briefly, that I wasn’t prepared to adopt a child,” Loki said cautiously.

“And I started calling you Daddy… to rope you in,” Judah said, sighing heavily in the manner of a young man getting the worst over with.

“For what it’s worth, I kind of figured as much. I’m proud of your manipulative skills. You’re talented for your age.”

“Are you angry with me?” Judah asked.

“Absolutely not. And… I have my own confession. When I made up my mind to take you in, I did it to kind of make up for something I didn’t get to do in my life.”

“What’s that?” Judah asked.

“Raise my own son.”

Judah pushed himself up on one shoulder. “You have a son? A for-real son?”

“Uh huh.”

“Why didn’t you get to raise him? Did he die?”

“No, he’s still alive. He lives in my father’s stables.”

“In his stables?” Judah said. “Why does he live in his stables?”

“It’s a long and not very child-friendly story. Suffice to say that my son is a god but not much like other gods. His name is Sleipnir. My father determined that I was too young and irresponsible to raise him, so he took him away from me. I told myself for a long time that I did not regret that but then… well, again, it’s difficult to explain to a child. I saw the future, Judah. My homeland was destroyed. The people were evacuated, but… the stables were not.”

“So your son is going to die,” Judah said.

“No. I already altered that future. Asgard is safe from that outcome, and so too is Sleipnir. Even if he barely knows me.”

“Well good. But you should talk to him.”

“Armchair psychology from a five-year-old.”

“You’re obviously thinking about him. Talk to him. I bet he would love to talk to you. Just… don’t abandon me after you do.”

“I would never do that, Judah.”

“Do I have to go back to my room?”

“No, Judah.”

The little boy snuggled back in and Loki pulled the covers over both of them.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Judah said.

“Goodnight, Judah,” Loki said. The boy was asleep in minutes.


	18. ...................

The next days were days of planning. Although Nick Fury and the Avengers knew it, Hydra had taken over SHIELD, and getting rid of them would be difficult, even though they had not managed to gain control of the Mind Stone and its secrets in this timeline. Future Stark hadn’t been able to warn them of every traitor within their ranks, so they weren’t certain of who they could trust or how far the infection had spread. Loki, amazingly, popped up with more specific information, and told them exactly who was and who was not a part of the conspiracy. It was almost as though he had been there in some capacity.

“I don’t trust this,” Barton said. “We’re not going to root out SHIELD agents based on this guy’s testimony, are we? He’s a snake.”

“Unfair,” Loki shot back. “Snakes are actually very trustworthy creatures.”

“With names in hand, we’ve got the tools we need to do our research and dig out the losers among us,” Fury said. “But we’ve got to be careful. Some of our nearest and dearest are on this list. Until we know who’s who, we can’t let anything slip to anyone.”

“How do we destroy Hydra anyhow?” Banner said, wringing his hands. “Cut off one head, six more grow in its place. That’s the mythology and that’s their motto, isn’t it?”

Loki made a rude sound.

“You have a thought?” Fury said.

“Everyone but my brother knows that you don’t kill a Hydra by chopping at it. The way to kill a Hydra is with fire.” He blanched. “Dear ancestors, stop me from becoming someone who suggests fire as a way to solve every problem, but in this case it is an analogy.”

“Scorched earth,” Fury said, catching his meaning instantly. “Cut off their supply lines, their resources. You realize most of their resources are our resources.”

Loki sneered. “Then find new resources. Secret ones.”

“We’d have to cut ourselves off from SHIELD completely.”

“What, you want to be part of a cult of backstabbers and terrorists? Because that’s what they are at the current time.”

“What about your oversight?” Stark said. “We cut ourselves off from SHIELD, there goes your overseer. Or do we bring Phil along with us as Babysitter-in-Chief? Not of Judah but of you?”

“I would be quite fine with having a different ‘babysitter,’” Loki said, “but as far as it goes, Agent Coulson was one of the agents who was loyal to SHIELD and for what it was meant to stand. After his resurrection, of course.”

“Coulson is as straight-laced as they come,” Fury said. “He might not be willing to go full-rogue, even for a good cause. No one outside this room knows that Hydra has infiltrated SHIELD’s highest levels of security, and it might be tough convincing him, especially if he knows our best information comes from… well…”

“Me,” Loki said.

“You,” Fury agreed. “Widow, I want you to start securing us whatever secret lines of resources you can here on earth. Thor, do you think your father would open negotiations with us for a good cause?”

Thor shook his head. “Unlikely. Father believes in non-interference. The realms are meant to come by their power in their own time. But perhaps if you asked for materials rather than weapons and technology, he might consider it.”

“We could work with that. Tony, will you help us out?”

Stark spread his hands wide. “Why not? I’ve had blood on my hands before. At least this time I’m reasonably certain I’m fighting the bad guys.”

“Then I think we should be good to make our break. Let’s get to it, people.”

Loki went back to his apartments, wondering whether he’d just set a tribe of bloodthirsty assassins loose after his adoptive son. Well, they’d play Hel to get through him on their way to Judah.

He thought for a time. He wanted some kind of alarm system, something to give him extra eyes on the boy, but preferably ones Judah would not know were watching him. Genius struck at the door and he veered off before his hand touched the knob and left the building, on a mission to make it happen.

A few hours later, he heard a great commotion in the building and knew that the Avengers were expunging SHIELD from the premises. That came about faster than he’d expected, but Fury liked to move. Frankly Hydra wasn’t the great threat they might have been, never having gotten their hands on the Mind Stone and thus upgrading their technology. Loki wasn’t tremendously worried about them. But he was slightly miffed that he hadn’t been called upon to help with the clean-up. It might have been fun. And with the number of highly-trained SHIELD agents in the building, they might have found him quite useful.

Another couple of hours after the hullabaloo finally died down, shortly before what would be Judah’s bedtime on a normal day, Phil Coulson knocked (for a change) on the door. Loki answered, and Coulson blinked at him uncertainly. Loki was wearing strange (for him) garments. Strange for anyone on earth, really, but they were so incongruous on Loki that Coulson could hardly figure out what he was seeing at first. A long-sleeved dark green tunic and black flannel (or other soft material) trousers, and his feet, for a wonder, were bare. It was plain, it looked relatively comfortable, it was utterly un-Loki.

“What are you wearing?” Coulson asked, unable to stand not knowing why the perennially over-dressed god was so dressed down.

Loki frowned and tugged at the high collar of the tunic. “My pajamas. Judah wanted to have a slumber party. We’re making snores and telling scary stories.”

“S’mores,” Coulson said, smiling. “I think you mean s’mores.”

“Whatever. Disgustingly sweet and hideously messy, that’s what they are. I see you chose to join the rebellion.”

“Yes. Colonel Fury convinced me that SHIELD is... well… compromised, at the current time.”

“Well, come on in, then.”

Something small and furry twined around Coulson’s ankles. He looked down. A gingery tabby cat looked up at him and mewed. “You have a cat,” he said, with more surprise than question in his voice.

“Judah wanted a dog, but they’re hard to take care of in an apartment. I thought I’d start him off on a cat and see how it goes.”

“What’s his name?” Coulson said, stooping a bit to give the cat a quick scratch behind the ears.

“Hopwaffle.”

“Hop… waffle?”

Judah giggled. “Show him how he got his name, Daddy!” he called from the living room.

“Ah. That is rather interesting,” Loki said. He stepped into the kitchenette and stood by the shiny toaster. He pulled a frozen waffle out of nowhere and held it up. “Observe,” he said, and stuck it in one of the slots and pushed the handle down. A few moments later it popped back up, he grabbed it out of the air, and tossed it at the cat like a Frisbee. The cat pounced on it with all four paws, then sat directly upon the slightly-warmed waffle, curling its tail delicately around its paws and the waffle for protection.

“Hopwaffle,” Loki said, as if he had just proved a scientific theorem.

Coulson was having a hard time keeping a straight face. “And how did you find out your cat would do that?” he said.

“Trial and error,” Loki said promptly.

Coulson could stand it no longer. All trace of professionalism lost, he broke down and laughed, hard. “I can’t tell if you’re serious, but that’s a good one,” he said when he could speak.

“With me, you can typically assume I’m not serious. But you can never be certain,” Loki said.


	19. ...................

It took a long time, in human terms, to destroy Hydra. They had many resources, most of which were unaware they were supplying an international terrorist organization, and it wasn’t easy to cut them off from all suppliers. Loki wasn’t given much to do. Fury said this was because they were saving him for “big things.” Loki knew it was because they just didn’t trust him. It was all right. He had more time than they did. He was fine with waiting.

Coulson, grudgingly on Loki’s part at the very least, became something of a friend over time. As close as Loki had ever come to having “friends.” Once he gave up trying to maintain the aspect of the consummate professional it became very easy to make him laugh, and once upon a time that had been Loki’s whole thing, making people laugh. It felt good, hearing laughter again. And Coulson – Phil – surprisingly, turned out to be a pretty good listener, on those rare occasions when Loki felt moved to talk. It was a surreal experience, because Loki could still remember jamming the Mind Staff through the man’s chest from behind in the original timeline. Of course, this version of Phil had not experienced that.

One day Phil stopped him and said, “Have you gotten Judah a gift yet?”

“For what?” Loki asked.

“His birthday.”

“Birthday? Didn’t we just celebrate that?”

Phil shook his head. “It’s been almost a year. His birthday’s in a week.”

Loki shook his head too. “Time moves too swiftly here. I cannot keep track of it. How old will he be now?”

“Eight.”

Loki’s eyes went wide. “Eight? I thought he was just five.”

“No, he turned seven last year. Remember?” Phil took in Loki’s look of shock and added, “And six the year before that…”

Loki staggered over to lean against the back of a nearby chair. “He’s growing up so swiftly,” he said, breathing faster than normal. “Where is time going?”

“As I understand it, this is a common problem for parents,” Phil said. “You… might have it a little worse than the average, being an immortal on a fast-time planet.”

Loki sank slowly into the chair, his eyes distant. Phil wondered whether his slightly faster breathing constituted hyperventilation for someone whose heart only beat once every three minutes. He contemplated calling for a medical technician, then realized there weren’t any in the building who knew anything at all about Asgardian physiology. Maybe he should call Thor.

“I always knew…” Loki said, in a breathless sort of voice. “I always knew he would grow up, grow old, die… all before I had grown another year older by my reckoning… What I hadn’t really realized was that I would… care.”

“That’s always a danger,” Phil said, feeling a familiar prickle of annoyance. He did like this most untrustworthy god, he did, but he could very easily find himself pissed off at him. He seemed bound and determined to deny himself capable of any caring or sentimentality whatsoever. Phil didn’t know if he was psycho or just hurting in some way. There had been talks, rare, brief, that suggested the latter, but there was a lot more to suggest the former.

Loki looked up at Phil, his eyes jewel-bright. With unshed tears? It seemed impossible. “He’s going to die,” he said, hopelessly.  
“Not for a long time yet,” Phil said, trying to be soothing.

“Maybe by your standards. Not by mine. By mine, if he lives to be a hundred and twenty it will still be as though I woke up tomorrow and found him dead in his bed.”

“He’ll have kids, grandkids, great-grandkids…” Phil offered, feeling lame.

“They won’t be Judah,” Loki snapped.

Phil stood still for half a second, thinking, then threw up his hands. “Listen, I’m not going to comfort you over a loss that hasn’t happened yet. Just enjoy him while you have him, why don’t you?”

“Oo, when did you get salty?” Loki said.

“I think all this time I spend with you is rubbing off on me,” Phil said, with a crooked grin that wasn’t quite humorous. “Now, what are we going to do about Judah’s birthday party?”

“What did we do last year?” Loki asked.

“You don’t remember?”

“I remember a red puppet creature and cartoon dogs dressed as firemen and policemen.”

“Elmo, that was his sixth birthday theme. _Paw Patrol,_ that was his seventh birthday theme. I think this year we should do dinosaurs. He’s really into dinosaurs.”

“He always was. What’s different about this year?”

“He says he wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up. Do you know nothing about your kid?”

“Judah says a lot of things. Last I knew he wanted to be a ballroom dancer.”

Phil’s grin was much more natural this time. “That’s been a while ago.”

“Perhaps Judah moves too swiftly, as a mortal, for me to cope with him as a parent.”

“I bet your parents had a hard time keeping up with you, too,” Phil said.

Loki nodded. “There… may be some truth in that. I remember one year I wanted to be a blacksmith, an alchemist, a tavernmaster, and a professional gambler… all at once.”

“Yeah, I bet you were a handful. Judging by the fact that you still are.”

“What is a ‘paleontologist’ anyway?” Loki asked.

“A scientist of pre-history,” Phil said, scratching the back of his neck uncertainly. “Someone who goes out and studies things that existed before humankind. Dinosaurs, in other words, but some of them look at plant-life, sea life, things that existed on earth even before the dinosaurs even.”

“What an odd concept. Of course, to an Asgardian, ‘pre-history’ is an odd concept, our history goes back so bloody far you can hardly find anything that goes back farther.”

“But there is something?” Phil said.

“Oh yes, gods evolved the same as any other being.”

Phil’s eyes widened. “Gods are products of evolution? How long did that take?”

“Not long. Giants were born of the explosion at the start of the first time, existed for a bit, then started giving birth to gods. Punctuated equilibrium. Evolution happening suddenly.”

Phil cocked his head. “But why?”

“Asgard. Asgard is soaked in cosmic power, born of that first creation of the multiverse. The first beings created were mundane giants, but they absorbed that power swiftly, and their offspring were born as gods, not simply giants with power but an actual unique species. Giants and gods can crossbreed but the offspring is always a bit off in various ways.”

Loki grinned. “All right, let the boy have dinosaurs. But tell me we don’t have to eat those horrible dino-shaped chicken chunks.”

“Nah, Judah’s outgrown those, more or less. He prefers the taste of more realistic chicken now, thank goodness. No, we could have something else for the dinner party. But definitely a dinosaur cake.”

“Dinosaur cake? Where are you going to get one of those? They’re extinct. Plus I can almost guarantee it would be tough and gamey. They’re closely related to chicken but I don’t think it would taste like chicken at all. Odin used to hunt dinosaurs… I don’t think he cared to eat them.”

Phil held up one finger. “A cake… decorated… with dinosaurs.”

Loki grinned wider. “I know. That was a joke.”

“Oh. One can never tell, with you.”

“And I lied, some dinosaurs tasted quite delicious, at least according to father.”

“Good to know if I’m ever starving in the Jurassic.”

“I think I know what to give Judah for his birthday, but I have to go to Asgard to fetch it. I hope the Bifrost is fixed.”

“Thor’s been going back and forth for a couple of weeks now.”

“He has? Nice of him to tell me.”

“I don’t think he thought you were interested in going to Asgard. Or in talking to him, seeing as you really haven’t said much of anything to him over the past three years.”

“Three mortal years is nothing to us, I just finished telling you that.”

“Well then maybe he just hadn’t gotten around to telling you it was fixed.”

“Oh possibly.”

Phil took a step closer and put his hands in his pockets. “What are you going to give him?”

“Something my father gave me when I was a child. Judah will like it, I think, and it’s doing no one any good growing dusty in my room in Odinhall.”

“But what is it?”

Loki’s eyes sparkled. Phil couldn’t tell if it was mischief or madness. “You’ll see.”

Loki went onto the Quinjet landing pad and called to Heimdall for a lift back to Asgard that very afternoon. He felt the rush of the Bifrost as the super-light speed ray closed around him. Soon he was standing in the fully restored Observatory, with the familiar feeling of slight upset in his head and stomach that, he knew, would pass in a few moments if he just ignored it.

“Welcome home, my Prince,” Heimdall said, withdrawing the sword from the mechanism and closing the bridge. “What brings you here today?”

“Birthday shopping,” Loki said curtly.

Heimdall nodded and said nothing. Loki knew he knew exactly what he was after. It was a wonder the god had even asked. Heimdall saw and heard everything, after all, or at least he did if Loki didn’t actively work to keep him from doing so.

Loki walked the long road across the Rainbow Bridge into the city and on to Odinhall, past lines of neat, orderly Royal Guards who did not even blink at his passage, and on into his rooms, stopping to speak to no one. He did not have to dig to find what he was looking for: it stood out. He took it and made the long trek back. It was not a particularly heavy load for one who was capable of carrying upwards of fifty tons, but it was certainly awkward. He’d thrown a blanket over it so it could not be seen accidentally by prying seven-year-old eyes.

As usual, as he came in off the Quinjet landing pad, Tony Stark, nosy person _extraordinaire,_ was there to greet him, scotch in hand, and ask exactly what the fudge he was carrying.

“It’s not, like, a nuclear bomb or something, is it?” he said, half laughingly, half anxiously.

Loki sighed and flipped up a corner of the blanket so that Stark could see just what, exactly, he had in his arms.

“Oh. Wow. That’s… nifty. Why is it white?”

“What?”

“White. Why is it white?”

“Have you ever seen a purple one?”

“No, but I’ve never seen one so fresh and pretty, either.”

“It’s been in Asgard.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” Tony said, nodding as if he understood, which he didn’t entirely. “Why do you have it?”

“Judah’s birthday.”

“That’s his present? _Dayum._ Even my parents just got me, you know, Erector Sets. That’s got to be worth, like, thousands at least. Maybe millions, given that it’s… you know… white.”

“What difference does the color make?” Loki asked.

“Well you’re not going to find one like that on earth. That makes it unique and unique is valuable, especially where those are concerned. How did you get a hold of that anyway?”

“My father gave it to me.”

“And how did he get a hold of it, if I might ask?”

“Hunting trophy. Father used to be into that kind of thing.”

“He hunted that.”

“Yes.”

“Are Asgardian hunting expeditions the real reason they’re extinct?”

“We’re not as stupid as humans, you know.”

“Is that an answer or an evasion?”

“We’re very careful conservationists, thank you very much.”

“You’re conservationists, but you do sport hunting.”

“They don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

Stark shook his head as though to clear it of thoughts that just didn’t fit inside it. “Oookay, I’m gonna let you be about your business. Tell Judah I said happy birthday.”

“Judah doesn’t know who you are,” Loki said, and went on his way.


	20. ...................

“Dear sweet gods in Asgard, what the Helheim did you get the kid?” Phil asked, coming in to the apartment and coming face-to-face with a giant box, quite large enough to hold a large man, in the middle of the living room where the coffee table usually was. It was wrapped in cartoon dinosaur paper with red T-Rex and green Apatosaurus characters, completely anachronistic to each other, which drove Loki crazy, but he was trying desperately to overlook it because he couldn’t find any other dinosaur wrapping paper. The T-Rex’s had speech bubbles saying “Rawr!” and the Apatosauri had exclamation points over their heads as though they were alarmed. Frankly, if they had lived in the same time period, Loki doubted that Apatosaurus would have been very frightened of T-Rex. According to his father, Tyrannosaurs hadn’t picked on sauropods much, which lived in herds and were too large and dangerous for solo Rexes to deal with. In fact, according to Odin, and not that it wasn’t a deadly hunter, T-Rex had lived predominantly as a scavenger.

He would tell Judah that the two-fingered caricature on his wrapping paper was an Allosaur that had suffered an unfortunate industrial accident. The boy wouldn’t have been convinced at five, he knew, but he would be amused.

Loki put a finger to his lips and pointed to Judah with his other hand. The boy was drawing (dinosaurs) nearby at the coffee table where it had been moved out of the way. “It’s a surprise,” he said.

“I think it’s an ATV,” Judah said, looking up from his notebook, “but I don’t know where I’d ride it.”

Loki gave Phil a look meant to communicate that it was most assuredly not an ATV, but who knows if the man picked up on it. Phil sidled into the room, his gaze still locked on the gigantic present.

“I, uh… brought Judah a little something myself,” he said, depositing a small, gaily-wrapped package alongside it on the floor. “Nothing much, just something I thought he might get a kick out of. Did you get the cake?”

“It’s in the freezer. It’s not even a proper cake, it’s frosted ice cream with a bit of cookie thrown in.”

“Oh, those are the best.”

Loki shook his head. “I shall never understand mortals. You love to call things by the wrong names.”

“It’s just our thing, Pan.”

“What?”

“That was a joke. Pan was… like… your Greek counterpart.”

“I don’t have a ‘counterpart.’ Pan is a unique individual with completely different powers and abilities from me, and he’s nothing like me at all.”

“You mean he’s real?”

“No, actually. ‘Pan’ is the name the Greeks gave me when we encountered them some years ago on a scouting trip to Midgard. Another instance of mortals calling things by the wrong damned names. But they did fall pretty hard for the goat-man trick I played on them, so it’s not all bad.”

Interested in spite of certain misgivings, Phil asked, “Did you ever meet the Ancient Egyptians?”

“They gave us new names, too.”

“What did they call you?”

“Anubis.”

“Ah. Any particular reason why they gave you the head of a jackal?”

“Fashion changes in Asgard the same as anywhere else, if more slowly perhaps.”

“So it was because of… what, your helmet?”

“And maybe a trick I may have played, once I realized they were bearing certain misconceptions about us.”

Phil thought for a moment. “I kind of expected you to say you were Set.”

“Set was a redhead, if you’ll recall.”

“So who was Set?”

Loki laughed. “Thor’s friend Volstagg, if you can believe it. Don’t ask me why, but they took a great dislike to the great lout. Invented a great load of vicious lies about him. I swear, I had nothing to do with it. But I wasn’t entirely displeased. It was great fun.”

Phil had seen Volstagg a grand total of once, for approximately fifteen minutes. “Isn’t he the heavy-set brunet with the Warriors Three?”

“Yes, but after a short time in the Egyptian Sun his hair glowed a brilliant auburn. Apparently it made them very superstitious. They were far more trusting of me – when I had my helmet off. Actually it made the Asgardians a bit superstitious as well. Redheads are little more common among our people than among the Ancient Egyptians. It was nice to see someone else catching flak for how they looked for a change.”

“I can’t imagine you catching flak for how you look,” Phil said, eyeing the handsome god warily.

Loki’s face clouded over. “Can’t you? As the only black-haired person in the whole of a predominantly blond realm, I was always considered ill-favored.”

“Lady Sif has black hair.”

“Because I gave it to her.”

“What do you mean?”

Loki waved a hand. “It’s a convoluted story, and it was long ago. Suffice to say, she used to be as blonde as the rest of them. That woman can hold a grudge, let me tell you.”

“What about that guy in the Warriors Three? He’s got black hair.”

“Hogun? He’s from Vanaheim. Black-haired people ‘happen’ there. Now and then. Whatever. He wasn’t around when we were growing up, we met him in the army. Asgardians look much more like Fandral and my dear brother Thor. Blond, blue-eyed, dashing… the thrill of any goddess’s heart… and just generally as dumb as a bag of hammers.”

“You never had a girlfriend, did you?” Phil said.

“Oh I did,” Loki said. “Ambitious goddesses who sought to use me as a stepping stone to get closer to the Heir.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Indeed.”

“Wait a minute – Thor told me that Heimdall, the Gatekeeper of Asgard, is a black man. How do you explain that if everyone is blond-haired and blue-eyed?”

“I won’t say Heimdall wasn’t subject to more prejudice than I, but again, he came to Asgard as a grown god. He, too, is an immigrant from Vanaheim. And I don’t know if I need to tell you this, but Vanir are nowhere near as looked down upon as Jotun.”

“And… you’re a Jotun.”

“Though I did not know it. Frigga, our Queen, is a Vanir. But an Asgardian would sooner kick a Jotun as look at him. It’s small wonder father hid my true identity. The nation would have been up in arms if they’d known I was a frost giant.”

“Do they know it now?”

“No. That’s a secret that has kept, amazingly, though they know now I am adopted.”

Phil looked down at the toes of his well-shined shoes. “Well, we should get ready for the party…” he suggested carefully. “The guests will be arriving in about an hour.”

Loki got up from the couch in one smooth motion. He was wearing a fashionable and perfectly tailored black suit rather than his armor but looked just as well-protected nevertheless. In three years, Phil had only seen him barefoot once, and that was the most skin the god had ever shown. Phil wouldn’t have been any too surprised to discover that Loki showered with his clothes on, though by the always heavily pomaded state of his shoulder-length hair, he couldn’t be certain the man showered. Maybe gods just didn’t stink.

It had been on Phil’s lips a thousand times to snap at the god to wash that grease out of his hair – surely a man so fastidious didn’t think he looked [i]better[/i] that way? – but his inherent courtesy stayed him every time.

Loki and Phil began setting up for the party, putting up decorations (dinosaur banners, streamers, plastic dinosaur toys), setting up extra chairs, getting the table set for dinner. Phil didn’t know what Loki had decided to have for dinner and was a little afraid to ask. He didn’t know if it would be home cooking or takeout, and had never tried the god’s cooking before. He wondered exactly what a god would think to cook. Especially a god of mischief.

Natasha was the first to arrive, bearing wine for the adults and a present for Judah. “I didn’t know what we were having,” she said, presenting the bottle, “so I didn’t know whether red or white would be more appropriate, so I brought a nice pink.”

“Thank you,” Phil said, smiling warmly. “That was really nice of you, Natasha.”

“Does anyone drink pink wine?” Loki said from the kitchen. “Isn’t that like drinking Ripple with the label ripped off?”

“It’s very nice pink wine,” Natasha half-shouted into the kitchen over Phil’s shoulder. “Not cheap.”

“It came in a lovely box!” Loki cackled.

“Ignore him. He’s a dark, evil soul,” Phil said. “I have had some wonderful pink wine in my day, and this obviously didn’t come in a box.”

“I don’t know how even you manage to call him a friend, Phil,” Natasha said, shaking her head.

“One point in his favor, he bought an ice cream cake,” Phil said.

She brightened. “Oo, ice cream cake!”

Next to arrive was Bruce Banner. He handed over Judah’s present and gave the air in the apartment an experimental sniff. “Something smells good. What’s for dinner?”

“I don’t know, actually,” Phil said. “Loki’s been in the kitchen for awhile now. I haven’t seen any deliveries so, unless he’s using illusion, I think he’s probably cooking.”

Bruce looked at him nervously. “Cooking? Loki? What’s… what’s _that_ like?”

Phil shrugged. “I dunno. Judah doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Yeah, well, Loki doesn’t have any reason to, like, _poison_ Judah.”

“He doesn’t have any reason to poison us, either, Bruce.”

“Does he really need one?”

“Don’t worry about it, Bruce. If he tries anything funny, just Hulk out on him. You know he’s way more scared of you than you are of him.”

“Yeah, and that scares me.”

Phil looked at him blankly. “Why?”

“What did I ever do to him?” Bruce said, shrugging.

“Maybe it’s more the possibilities he’s afraid of,” Phil said. “Go and have a seat, I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

Steve Rogers arrived, then shortly afterward, Clint Barton, as always not quite happy to be stepping foot over the threshold of Loki’s apartment, but still bearing a gift for Judah. Newcomer to the team Sam Wilson arrived after that and eventually, late as always, Thor arrived in a rumble of thunder.

“Nice of you to show up in time for supper, brother,” Loki said, appearing from the kitchen as Phil was showing him in. “Everyone else has been ready and waiting for some time.”

“I’m not the last to arrive,” Thor said. “Stark is not here yet.”

“Tony… never comes to these parties,” Phil said quietly, leaning in close to Thor’s ear.

“Oh. Well… better late than never,” Thor said, shifting uncomfortably.

“That depends,” Loki said, sneering just a little. “Well, everybody grab a seat before they’re gone.”

Everyone moved to the kitchen and found a seat around the table. There wasn’t much room but they all fit, barely. Fortunately most of them weren’t built along the lines of Steve and Thor or there wouldn’t have been room at all. Loki sat down next to Judah. “Well, happy birthday, my boy,” he said.

“Thanks Dad,” Judah said. “Thanks, everybody.”

“Where’s the food?” Thor said. “I’m starving.”

“Thor!” Steve said.

“It’s all right,” Loki said. “By Asgardian standards that was quite polite. There you go; tuck in.”

“All right, Harry Potter!” Judah said, slapping five with Loki as penne with meat sauce and garlic cheese bread suddenly appeared on their apparently clean plates before them.

“Pshaw, Harry Potter can eat my dust,” Loki said. “He needs House Elves to make food appear on his plates.”

“Was this magic or illusion?” Banner asked, pushing the noodles around nervously with his fork as he cocked an eyebrow at the god.

“The magician never reveals his secrets,” Loki said primly, and popped a forkful into his own mouth.

“Dad, can you teach me magic?” Judah asked. Loki paused with a second forkful halfway to his mouth. He slowly lowered the fork to the plate and seemed to ponder the question while Steve was still silently saying Grace.

“Magic… is a complicated discipline, Judah,” he said very slowly. “It takes many, many years of dedicated study.”

“It only took Harry Potter a few years.”

“Harry Potter is a work of fiction, written by a mortal. Mortal sorcerers have to dedicate their entire lives to the study of magic, although they consider themselves ‘masters’ at an incredibly minor level. Even a god has to spend an inordinate amount of his or her life studying if he or she wishes to become a master of magic.”

“What if you just want to learn a few tricks?” Judah said.

Loki sighed. “Magic is… _dangerous,_ Judah. Fun. But dangerous. It would be irresponsible of me to teach you just a few tricks.”

“Is that a cop out?”

“What?”

“Because you don’t want to do magic anymore? Uncle Thor says you don’t want to do magic anymore.”

“It is not a cop out, Judah,” said a new voice, and everyone looked to see a new visitor in their midst. Tall and oddly dressed in a blue tunic and a red cloak, he might have seemed out of place except in the present company no one was particularly out of place. “Magic is dangerous. And Loki is right not to teach you ‘just a few tricks.’”

“Doctor Strange. Crashing the party?” Loki said.

“I thought it sounded like you needed a little help with this one,” Strange said.

“Observing closely enough?” Loki said.

“I am, for the time being, Sorcerer Supreme of this realm,” Strange said. “That means I have to keep an eye on all of its dangers. You included.”

“We have a word for guys like you in Asgard. We call you ‘Peepers.’”

“We don’t call Heimdall that,” Thor said.

“That’s because Heimdall knows when not to look,” Loki said.

“You haven’t done anything too exciting thus far, actually,” Strange said, smiling just a little. “But you can’t blame me for keeping an eye on you after the Chitauri incident.”

“Yes, yes, hold that over my head for the rest of eternity,” Loki said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s only been three years,” Barton said, shooting him a dirty look.

“That’s practically forever in your terms,” Loki shot back.

“Not for something like _that.”_

“Oh, you’re just upset you had your brain scrambled, like you were the only one.”

Strange raised his hands. “If we could focus on the fact that it’s a child’s birthday?” he said.

“Of course. Come on, eat up, the cake’s getting progressively more frozen,” Loki said.

They ate, space at the table magically appearing for Strange, though there hadn’t been room for one more. But they weren’t many bites in when Judah raised the subject once more.

“So what if I promised to study _really hard?”_ he said.

Loki put down his fork again and breathed out very hard through his nose. Strange steepled his fingers in front of his face and grinned behind his hands.

“I thought you wanted to be a paleontologist?” Loki said, looking over at Judah.

“I do. But I want to learn magic, too!”

“And last week you wanted to be a ballroom dancer!”

“I still want to do that, I just found out you can’t make a living at it.”

“Believe me, Judah, there’s no living to be made as a paleontologist, either,” Strange said, still highly amused.

“I’ll make you a deal, Judah,” Loki said. “I’ll teach you how to brew a few simple potions, and if you take to that, and want to keep pursuing it, we’ll go on from there. All right?”

“Potions? Well, all right. But don’t be like Snape, okay?” Judah said.

“I promise, I will not be like Snape.”

“Potions? Isn’t that… at _least_ as dangerous as magic?” Natasha said, brow furrowed.

“It’s easier to control, believe it or not,” Loki said. “Apprentices of beginner magic are a danger to themselves and others. Potions can be taught in controlled conditions. Still somewhat dangerous, but safer. And believe me, I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so,” she said, raising her glass of pink wine to her lips.

“I wasn’t all that dangerous as an apprentice,” Strange said.

“You are an Adept, like all your mortal contemporaries,” Loki said. “Born with a certain amount of natural magical talent. Statistically speaking, Judah probably isn’t. It doesn’t matter. If he has enough determination, he can master magic all the same – given the time.”

“Cake!” Phil said brightly, standing up. “Who’s ready for cake?”

“Ice cream cake?” Judah said.

“That’s what I heard!” Phil said. He pulled it out of the freezer. “Oh look at that! That looks great! Let’s get this candle lit, ‘cause you know what comes after cake? Presents!”

Phil stuck a number eight candle in the icing above the green frosting T-Rex on the top of the cake. He lit it with a flick of a lighter and brought it over to the table. Everybody sang “Happy Birthday,” the Asgardians still sounding uncertain as to the precise lyrics after three years, then Phil cut the cake and dished it out. Everybody ate, a more “normal” conversation asserted itself during that time, and then they repaired to the living area so everyone could sit in more comfortable chairs and Judah could open his presents.

“Let’s open the smaller ones first, save the big one from your dad for last, eh?” Phil said, handing Judah a package. Judah thanked him, thanked the giver, Steve Rogers, and ripped off the paper. He exclaimed over the toy inside (a GI Joe set) and gave Rogers a hug.

“You’re a good kid, Judah,” Rogers said, hugging him back.

Judah unwrapped a few other presents, and then there was a knock at the door. Phil gave Loki a look. “Were we expecting anyone else?” he asked.

“I didn’t invite the ones that came,” Loki said. “You handled all of that.”

Phil went over and opened the door. Tony Stark stepped in, taking off his sunglasses as he did so as though he were stepping in from outside rather than the hallway of his own building. “Sorry I’m late, but I had to go to the store,” he said. “Do you know I looked all over but I couldn’t find a single damned Erector Set? Do they even make them anymore?”

“You can… erm… find them online,” Phil said. “Some stores probably still sell them.”

“Well not the ones I went to. If I’d had time I would have done the online thing but you know me – _procrastinator.”_

“We… um… didn’t know you were coming,” Phil said.

“Yeah, well, Loki said the little trickster didn’t know who I was. That needs to be changed. For him,” he said, thrusting a half-wrapped case into Phil’s hands. Phil took it by the handle.

“K’Nex?” Phil said.

“How did you know?” Tony said.

“It’s the next nearest thing to an Erector Set and almost any store sells it.”

“I could’ve got him something else,” Tony said, blushing a little.

“But you didn’t,” Phil said, grinning.

“Yeah, well, I knew whatever I got him it wasn’t going to measure up to what Good Ol’ Dad got him. Has he opened that yet? I see he hasn’t,” Tony said, and trotted down into the living area and took a seat. He flapped a hand. “Well, get on with it.”

Judah finished with the smaller presents and sat for a moment with his hands folded, looking at the big one.

“Well, go on,” Loki said.

“I want to wait a minute,” Judah said.

“Why?”

“Because the anticipation’s sort of the best part.”

“What, you think you won’t like it?”

“No, I expect I’ll love it. But I’ll never not know what it is again.”

Loki put his hand on the boy’s head and smoothed back his unruly hair. “Take all the time you need.”

Judah looked at the giant box for a long moment, then began looking for a seam to exploit. “How do I open it?” he said at last.

“How about we do it the easy way?” Loki said, and he pulled the box off what was underneath. Judah jumped to his feet.

“NO WAY!!! NO WAY!!! YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!”

“Just so I know, is this a good reaction, or a bad reaction?” Loki asked. Judah jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly. Everyone in the room stared at the massive object resting on the marble display platform.

It was a perfect, unfossilized Tyrannosaurus skull, as fresh and new as if it had just died, and large enough to swallow Thor in a bite.

“What kind of monster did that come off of?” Steve Rogers asked.

“You’ve never seen a dinosaur, Steve?” Clint said.

“Not like that,” Steve said. “Where did he even get it? Aren’t they all supposed to be in museums?”

“He got it in Asgard,” Tony said. “I was there when he brought it back. That’s why it’s not fossilized. Daddy Odin hunted it. I don’t quite understand how it survived so long in such good condition, but… well… Asgard is special.”

“I can’t believe he gave that up,” Thor said in amazement. “He loved that ghastly thing.”

“Where is he going to put it?” Natasha said. “It’s too big for the apartment.”

“I want to know how the hell he got it in here,” Clint said.

The party cleared out, Phil and Loki cleared up, and Judah went to bed at last. Then, around midnight, he awoke. His bedroom door was open and Loki was standing silhouetted in the gap.

“What’s the matter, Dad?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Loki said, a little more gruffly than he intended. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay. G’night.”

“Good night.”

He began to close the door, but stopped. “Judah?”

“Yeah?”

“When did you start calling me ‘Dad?’”

“Gee, I dunno. Why?”

“It kind of took me by surprise, is all. Time moves strangely on Midgard, for me. I notice it every now and then.”

“What do you mean it moves strange?”

“It goes too swiftly. I cannot keep up with it.”

Judah propped himself up on one elbow. “Dad?”

“Yes, Judah?”

“Are you homesick?”

Loki paused. “What makes you ask such a thing, Judah?”

“It just dawned on me that you’ve been away from your home for a long time. Uncle Thor goes back and forth when he can but you don’t do that, do you? Or do you?”

“I went back to get your present.”

“I bet it was a quick trip.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Do you want to go back? To stay?”

Loki paused. “Perhaps someday.”

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Am I what’s stopping you?”

Another pause. “No, Judah. Go to sleep now.”


	21. ...................

Phil came in a few days later to find Loki seated on the couch, staring pensively into some middle distance. This wasn’t all that uncommon, so he wasn’t too worried. He sat down next to him and waved a hand in front of his eyes.

“You alive?” he asked.

“I shall be long after your bones turn to dust,” Loki said, not blinking.

“Thinking long thoughts again,” Phil said. It was not a question, so Loki did not feel compelled to answer. “Have you started teaching Judah about potions yet?”

“Not yet. I promised him I would start after he finished all of his regular homework assignments for this week. He’s done with everything except his reading. He wasn’t too keen on the book I assigned, it seems.”

“What did you assign?” Phil asked.

_“Die Verwandlung,_ by Franz Kafka.”

“Say what?” Phil said.

Loki rolled his eyes. _“The Metamorphosis.”_

“Oh. That’s… pretty heavy reading for an eight-year-old, don’t you think?”

“It’s only fifty-five pages.”

“Are you at least letting him read it in English?”

“Of course. I’m not cruel.”

Phil sat quietly for a moment, then said, “What would an eight-year-old even get out of a book like that?”

“Nightmares, apparently,” Loki said. “I don’t know at this point whether it would be better to let him skive off or make him finish it so it’s behind him. It doesn’t have a happy ending, so… yeah…”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but mortals usually save Kafka for the college years,” Phil said.

“You do seem to have a low opinion of your childrens’ intelligence, but if it frightens the boy he shouldn’t read it I suppose. I’ll give him something lighter to take his mind off of it.”

“Like what? ‘The Pit and the Pendulum’?” Phil said, smiling crookedly.

“An excellent suggestion.”

“I never know if you’re serious,” Phil said, shaking his head sadly.

“He doesn’t have time left this week for anything long or complicated. I’ll let him read something he enjoys. [i]Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone,[/i] perhaps. He can read that one a million times.”

“He can finish that before the weekend?” Phil said.

“Coulson, Judah can devour that in an hour. Of course, once his reading is done, I shall have to keep my promise.”

“Not too keen on doing that, are you?” Phil said.

“I never thought I had the required temperament to be a teacher,” Loki said.

“You do all right teaching Judah his reading, writing, and ‘rithmetic,” Phil pointed out.

“Magic, even on a basic level… requires a much higher degree of skill and patience…”

“Maybe so, but you’re always saying you’re the best thing to ever sling a wand,” Phil said. “You’ve got this. And besides, it’s just a few potions.”

“For now, perhaps. But supposing Judah does decide to pursue magical education?”

Phil shrugged. “If you don’t think you’re up to it, you could always have Doctor Strange teach him.”

Loki made a rude noise. “Strange may be your ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ but he’s really no more than a student himself. He’s not worthy to teach my son.”

“Well… who taught you?” Phil asked.

Loki looked at him in shock. “Me? I attended the Imperial Academy of Magical Arts.”

“I AM A?” Phil said.

“Shut up. Suffice to say it’s the single most prestigious center of magical learning in the multiverse. Sometimes it pays to be an Odinson.”

“Could Judah go there?” Phil said.

A look of intense pain crossed Loki’s features, just for an instant. “One semester is longer than Judah’s expected lifespan. He’d probably be dead before the waitlist for entry came around to him.”

Phil’s face fell. “Oh…”

Loki sat silently for a long moment, staring off into that middle distance, then, slowly, said, “Of course, if he lived in Asgard… there is a way of extending his lifespan…”

“There is?” Phil said, eyeing him sharply. “By how much?”

“As much as any god.”

“Well, that’s good,” Phil said, drawing the words out long and slow. “What is this way? It’s not… painful… is it?”

“Not at all. But it requires Odin’s permission.”

Phil relaxed. “Well you’re set, then.”

Loki shook his head. “Odin has never given that permission once in all his years.”

“But… this is his grandson. Surely he would give it now.”

“You don’t know Odin. To call him a hardliner is to put it lightly. He does not believe that immortality is a gift to be handed out, no matter to whom. Mortal races aren’t prepared to ‘deal’ with it, he says.”

“He might have a point,” Phil said cautiously. “I can’t imagine being alive as long as you’ve been alive. I think it would drive me nuts.”

Loki shook his head. “I’m not very old, Coulson,” he said.

“Maybe not in your terms, but good lord, you’re older than human history!”

“And just imagine all the amazing things I’ve seen in that time, Coulson – all the things I’ve been able to do!”

“And it’s not like it’s seemed to have had any effect on you or anything,” Phil said, with an astonishing amount of sarcasm for him.

Loki’s face clouded over and Phil was momentarily worried that he was about to get zapped with some sort of magic, despite Loki’s proclaimed aversion to using it. But then the god’s face cleared and he just looked sad. “I’ve had… experiences… most gods haven’t,” he said. “You can’t take me as the base line.”

“You’ve… skirted the edges of those experiences in the past,” Phil said, still stepping cautiously, careful not to go too far. “I can tell it hurts. Sometimes it helps to talk about it, you know?” Phil didn’t expect the man to talk, he rarely did, and always got defensive if pushed to do so, but this time he was surprised.

“You’re… a soldier, of sorts,” Loki said, making an odd sideways gesture with his head that was not quite a toss and not quite a shrug. “You know how that can be.”

Phil had expected, if anything, for Loki to make some tirade about how Daddy had loved Thor more than him. This was unexpected, to say the least.

“Are you saying you had a… a ‘bad war?’” he said, still trying to be cautious.

“There’s no such thing as a good one, Coulson. But in Asgardian philosophy you fight until you die, and if you’re wounded you bear your scars with pride. I didn’t, and I can’t, and therein is my shame.”

“Wh-whaddya mean?” Phil said through a dry mouth. His tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of it.

“Just what I said, Coulson.”

“You… deserted?”

Now he did get zapped by something, something fiery, and he realized his jacket was aflame. He leapt to his feet and stripped it off, dropped it to the floor, and stomped it out, heart pounding.

“No! Nothing so vile as that!” Loki fairly shouted. “But… almost as bad.”

Phil sank back into a chair. “What did you do?” he said.

Loki heaved a deep breath. He appeared to be girding himself for something terrible. “I was… captured.”

Phil felt conflicting emotions. Relief, that he wasn’t hearing of some horrible act of treason. Horror, that he may be about to hear of terrible acts committed against this man before him. Confusion, as to why Loki seemed to think this was in any way a reflection against him.

“I don’t understand,” Phil said, choosing to act on his confusion. “Why is that a reflection on you?”

Loki looked at him as though he were crazy. “I told you. In Asgard, you’re expected to fight to the [i]death.[/i] They don’t give you a cyanide capsule but they’re pretty damned adamant about it all the same. Being captured is a great shame.”

“How did they manage to capture you anyway?” Phil said, thinking to boost the god’s ego. “By the sounds of things, you were the hottest Imperial Battlemage Asgard had ever seen. It must have been tough for them.”

Loki sighed again. “A member of my battalion turned coat and gave the enemy information about our movements, numbers, et cetera. They were very keen to get their hands on me. I thought at first it was just to put me out of commission as the Battlemage but as it turns out they were quite aware I was Odin’s son. They wanted me as a royal hostage.”

“So how did they get you? Numbers?” Phil said.

“They had them, definitely,” Loki said, now staring at the toes of his boots. “But no, they got me by negotiation.”

“What do you mean?”

“They had all of my teammates on the mage’s squad down on their knees with swords at their throats and power dampening shackles around their wrists, and told me that they’d kill them if I didn’t come quietly,” Loki said, in a small voice. He spread his hands. “I did what they wanted.”

“So you had no choice,” Phil said. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your shame.”

Loki made that odd toss/shrug gesture with his head again. “Can’t prove that. After they got me out of there, they killed all my mates anyway.”

“Didn’t Heimdall see it?” Phil said, swallowing the dry lump in his throat.

“Yes, but there’s a far cry from what he sees and what people want to believe, and I’ve never been much liked or trusted.”

“I suppose once they had you they… didn’t treat you very well…”

“I suppose they didn’t,” Loki said.

“Did Odin negotiate your release?”

“No. Odin does not negotiate with those who use terrorist tactics.”

“How did you get out of there then?”

“Thor eventually got tired of waiting for Odin to act and acted himself. He rescued me, with his usual head-busting panache. I was in their hands for the better part of an Asgardian year. Not long, by our standards, but…”

“But [i]eight thousand fucking years[/i] by ours,” Phil said, awed in a very bad way.

Loki raised a hand and waved it as though brushing the past away. “That was all a thousand Asgardian years ago. I shouldn’t let it bother me any longer, as Thor keeps reminding me, but some things are hard to let go of.”

“You have PTSD. You don’t just ‘let go’ of that,” Phil said. “You need help.”

“That’s what mother keeps telling me,” Loki said. “She’s always pushing me to spend time in one of our sanitariums, as I did when I first came home. But those places are useless. Saunas and massages and incense and ‘clearing the mind’ – I couldn’t empty my mind when there was nothing more on it than the next prank to pull.”

Phil raised an eyebrow to what remained of his hairline. “If it were me, I’d be keen to go to a place like that even if there were nothing on my mind.”

“Then you go.”

Phil tried to think of a retort, but before he could come up with something suitable, Judah came in from the hall outside. He dropped his bookbag and waved. “Hi, Uncle Phil!” he said brightly.

“Hey, Judah. Where’ve you been?” Phil said.

“Earth History,” Judah said. “Dad says he’s running out of knowledge on the subject so Mr. Stark offered to teach me.”

“Which means his ‘butler’ is doing it,” Loki said.

“Yeah,” Judah said. “I had my first lesson with him today. Jarvis sure knows a lot!”

“He should,” Loki said, an ironic look on his face. “He’s a computer with full internet access.”

“How’s your schooling going, do you think?” Phil asked.

“Good!” Judah said. “I enjoy it! But I’m looking forward to learning some magic.”

“What do you think of the books your Dad gives you to read?” Phil said, not quite casually.

A moue of something, consternation perhaps, flickered on Judah’s face. “Some of them are kind of dark, but I like them okay.”

Loki shook his head, his eyes rolled heavenward. “He was fine with the entirety of the Harry Potter books, which are about as dark as it gets towards the end,” he said. “Judah, you don’t have to finish _Die Verwandlung._ Read something you enjoy, just be sure you read something, so we can discuss it on Monday.”

Judah’s face brightened again. “Cool! I think I’ll read _The Little Prince,_ is that okay?”

Loki shared a look with Phil. “That one is… actually pretty dark, too, Judah,” he warned.

“But it’s about a prince, right? Like you.”

“Actually… I think the little prince is more like you, Judah.”

“I’m not a prince,” Judah said.

“Yes you are,” Loki said. “You’re my son. That makes you a prince.”

Judah considered. “I… never really thought of that. Wow.”

“Don’t go getting big-headed. If you want to read that book you may, but do not say you were not warned. If nothing else, it’s rather sad.”

“Can’t be as bad as _The Metamorphosis,_ can it? I mean, a giant _bug,”_ Judah said, shivering.

Loki smiled a little. “No, it’s probably not as bad as _Die Verwandlung.”_

Judah danced to the bookshelf and started reading titles ‘til he found the right one. “I’ll get this read by tonight!” he said happily. “Then you’ll start teaching me potions, right, Dad?”

“Right, Judah,” Loki said, sounding resigned and slightly amused. “First thing tomorrow, if you get your reading done.”

“I’ll start right now! Love you, Dad! Bye, Uncle Phil!” And he dashed off to his room to read, slamming the door behind him in his eagerness.


	22. ...................

Phil came in early the next morning, hoping to catch Judah’s first-ever potions lesson. He was, admittedly, curious as to exactly what that would be like. He’d read the Harry Potter books, too, and quite enjoyed them. He’d liked the movies, too, although he felt they’d gone downhill somewhat after they’d lost Richard Harris as Dumbledore. He found the boy sitting quietly at the kitchen table, but Loki was nowhere to be seen.

He gave Judah a quick hug. “Where’s your pop?” he asked.

“He’s still in bed,” Judah said. “He doesn’t actually ‘sleep’ very often, so I don’t like to wake him when he does.”

Phil sat down at the table next to him and gave him a look. “D’you get your reading done?”

“Yeah.”

“Excited about today?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound terribly excited. Something eating you? The book?”

“No.”

“Judah… you know you can talk to me, right? Anything.”

Judah looked at him for a moment, then looked down at his little hands on the tabletop. “I’m worried about Dad.”

Phil was surprised. “Why?” he said.

“Because I think he’s worried about me.”

Phil fidgeted in his seat. “All parents worry about their kids, Judah. It’s natural. It’s nothing you have to worry about.”

“Most parents don’t worry about their kids dying before they do.”

Phil swallowed hard. “Oh Judah, he’s not worried about that –”

“Don’t lie, Uncle Phil. For a Secret Agent, you’re not very good at it. I’m going to die before he even knows it happened. Aren’t I?”

“Judah, you’re going to live a long and happy life.”

“But Dad won’t realize it. Because time moves funny here, for him. He’s going to miss out on it.”

“That’s… that’s not your problem, Judah. Your job is to live, and grow, and be happy. Loki’s job is to teach you and take care of you until you can take care of yourself, and be happy for you.”

“He’s not going to stop worrying about me,” Judah said.

“No. No, he’s not. But you need to stop worrying about him worrying about you.”

“I can’t, Uncle Phil. He means too much to me.”

“I know, Judah, I know,” Phil said, and gave the boy a hug.

“He would have been better off if he’d left me in that building to die,” Judah said into his shirt collar. Phil pulled back and stared at him in horror.

“Don’t ever say that! Judah, do not ever say that! I know you don’t know this, but you are so good for Loki. He… wasn’t the nicest guy before he met you.”

Judah grabbed a tissue from the box on the sideboard and wiped his nose. “I know,” he said. “I know all about it.”

“You… you do?” Phil said. Judah nodded.

“I do. I know what he did. I saw him on the news when the Avengers captured him in Germany. I know he was behind the attack that killed my real parents. I don’t know why he did that, but I know. He never denied it.”

“And you… still trust him?” Phil said.

“He told me not to. But I do. Maybe that’s stupid of me.”

Phil didn’t know if it was wise, but it was sweet. And unexpected, given what had happened to this child at Loki’s hands. But such was the faith of a child. Phil hoped for both Judah and Loki’s sakes that Loki never broke that faith.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Loki arrived, tousle-haired and still in his pajamas.

“Good morning, Dad,” Judah said.

“Mmph,” Loki said.

“He’s not really a morning person,” Judah said to Phil. “He needs his coffee.”

“I didn’t know he drank it. That coffee maker has sat unused for all the time I’ve known him.”

“He only drinks it when he first wakes up.”

Loki fairly punched the button on the coffee maker. Phil was surprised the thing didn’t shatter into a thousand pieces from the force, but evidently the god was more aware of his strength than Thor was. He stood over it impatiently for all the time it was brewing, and as soon as the pot was done he grabbed it up and drank it down, not bothering with a mug.

“Wow,” Phil said.

Loki turned with the mostly-empty pot in his hands and leaned back against the counter. “Hey, Phil. Here to supervise Judah’s first potions lesson?”

“Mostly just to see what a potions lesson looks like,” Phil said. “You don’t get a lot of chances to see something like that in the twenty-first century… on earth.”

“Mm.”

Judah suddenly looked a lot more excited. “Are we gonna start now, Dad?” he said, leaning forward over the table and grinning ear-to-ear.

“No time like the present,” Loki said. “We should have pretty much everything we need, I think.”

He began pulling bottles off the spice rack and things out of the refrigerator and pantry. Then he took a large, copper sauce pot out of the cabinet and put it on the stove. “All right. Judah Lokison, come on down,” he said, gesturing grandly.

Judah jumped down off the chair and danced over to the stove. “What are we making?” he said.

“A very basic healing potion,” Loki said. “It’s a good place to start. The recipe calls for mostly Asgardian ingredients, but most of them can be substituted. I had a few laying around for emergencies, thankfully.”

“Where is he going to get Asgardian ingredients under normal circumstances?” Phil asked.

“The Bifrost is functional,” Loki said, a little testily. “I can replenish my stores at any time.”

Hopwaffle jumped onto the kitchen table and sat down to observe the goings-on with Phil as Loki talked Judah through the beginnings of a basic Asgardian healing potion.

“All right, four cups of water, brought to a boil. Then add one cup of whole milk and stir well.”

“Are we making a potion… or soup?” Judah asked, stirring and looking skeptical.

“Patience, youngling, I promise you this is not a cooking lesson, although the single biggest difference is that there is much less forgiveness for error in potion making. And very, very often, what you come up with at the end tastes absolutely noxious.”

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“I know I told you not to be Snape, but… will you say it?”

Loki chuckled. “’As there is little foolish wand-waving in this class, few of you will believe this is magic. I can teach you to bottle fame, brew fortune, even put a stopper in death,’” he said, in a flawless Alan Rickman. “Add two level tablespoons of curry powder and stir until the mixture is uniformly beige.”

“Right,” Judah said, and added the spice. “Does it matter if I stir clockwise or the other way?”

“No, that’s a totally fictional conceit.”

“I have to say, this isn’t much like potions as I expected,” Judah said. “I mean, a sauce pot on a stove? Kinda… what’s that word? _Bourgeois.”_

Loki laughed out loud. “My set up in Asgard would be much more to your liking, no doubt,” he said, when he recovered. “Unfortunately, there’s no room for it in the apartment. Perhaps, after you’ve had a bit of experience, I can do something about that. Turn down the heat to low and start chopping up that thing that looks like a furry carrot. Carefully, now, don’t cut yourself.”

“I always thought this thing was just… really old…” Judah said, grimacing as he gingerly touched the strange plant-thing.

“It is. But it always looks like that, it’s not gone off.”

Judah took hold of the paring knife and girded himself. “Okay, here goes.” He began to chop, slowly and carefully. A marvelous smell arose from the juicy pieces, like the sweetest flowers ever to bloom. Loki sneezed into his elbow.

“Wow, it doesn’t look very nice, but it sure smells great,” Judah said. A sort of blissful expression lay on both his and Phil’s face, and even Hopwaffle seemed slightly dazed. Loki, on the other hand, just kept sneezing.

“Hurry up with that, why don’t you, Judah?” he said, sounding miserable. “I’ve never been able to take much of that stuff.”

“What is it, anyway?” Phil asked, shaking himself out of his reverie. “Something Asgardian, obviously.”

“Asrelle Root. The flower is even worse, but fortunately it doesn’t have as much use in puh-puh- _POTIONS,”_ Loki said, sneezing the last word into this elbow. Phil handed him a tissue. “Thank you.”

“Asgard has lots of stuff we don’t have here on earth, doesn’t it, Dad?” Judah said.

“Well, yes, Judah, it’s a different world,” Loki said, calming down as Judah dumped the chunks of chopped Asrelle Root into the sauce pot to stew.

“Is there any chance I’ll ever get to see it someday?” Judah asked. “I’d like to.”

Loki was silent for a while. Then he said, “I’d like you to see it, Judah, but I’m not certain.”

“Why couldn’t I go with you sometime?”

“It’s… complicated. Now you need to take that scale over there and cut exactly three ounces off that garlic and chop it up fine, then add it to your mix and stir.”

Judah moved to do as directed. “Why is it complicated? The Bifrost is open now. Uncle Thor goes back and forth all the time.”

Loki sighed. “It’s complicated… because mortals aren’t welcome in Asgard,” he said, with the air of getting the worst over with.

_“What?”_ Judah shrieked, accidentally squirting himself with garlic juice. 

Loki threw up his hands in despair. “It’s the way it is, Judah. If I brought you to Asgard, my father would be incredibly angry. Asgard cut itself off from mortal realms what you would consider a long time ago. Father isn’t happy with us that we’re down here on Midgard. I think he’s afraid we’ll ‘catch’ mortality.”

“If your father has a problem, that’s his problem!” Judah said, turning away from the stove and drawing himself up to his full three feet, eleven inches. “He can’t tell us what to do and what not to do!”

“Judah, he’s the King,” Loki said quietly. “He [i]can, [/i]actually. Be careful, or your potion will scorch.”

Judah spun back to the sauce pot and began stirring furiously. “I hate Odin! I hate him!” he muttered.

“Please don’t,” Loki said, surprising Phil. For all he knew, Loki hated Odin, too. “He’s just an old man who doesn’t know you. He’s trying to do right by his realm but he doesn’t always know how. It’s hard work, being King.”

“He’s a… a… a _racist!”_ Judah said.

“He’s a product of ignorance. Don’t hate him. It solves nothing. Trust me on this, if nothing else.”

Judah’s aggressive stance wilted and his angry expression faltered. “I suppose, if you don’t want me to hate him, then I won’t. But that doesn’t mean I’ll like him.”

“That’s something I won’t ask you to do. Just… don’t hold to hate. It’s the worst poison of which I know, and I know a lot of poisons.”

“That’s good to know,” Phil said.


	23. ...................

Phil entered the apartment and approached cautiously, unsure of how to broach the subject. Last time, it hadn’t been taken all that well. He tapped Loki on the shoulder.

“Er… have you got Judah anything for his, er, um… birthday?” he asked.

“Is this payback for those slugs I slipped into your underwear drawer?” Loki said, not looking up from the papers he was reading.

“That was you? Of course that was you. How did you get into my apartment? You know what? Never mind. No, this is not payback. I really want to know.”

“Judah’s birthday was only a couple of weeks ago.”

“It was… aherm… almost a year ago.”

Loki looked up now, a look of panic on his face. “A year? Already?”

“Yeah. I know, I know, it goes fast.”

Loki jumped to his feet and grabbed Phil by the jacket lapels. He picked him up and held him so that they were eye to eye.

“You swear to me that this is not a prank?” he said, in a deadly voice.

“Hey, that’s your bag, not mine,” Phil said, a little weakly.

Loki released him, letting him drop none too gently. He sank back into the chair. “Dear ancestors, I cannot live like this.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Phil said.

Loki picked up a pen, tapped it on the desk twice, flipped it over, and tapped it twice again. Then he dropped it and stood up again. “I’m going to take Judah home.”

“Home? To Asgard, you mean? But I thought you said Odin wouldn’t like that.”

“Odin can kiss my rosy backside.”

“Stop and think about this for a minute,” Phil said, trying to calm the agitated god down. “Even if you do take him there, you said he’d still be mortal unless you got Odin’s permission to… er… well, ‘make him otherwise.’ How likely is that to happen?”

“I’ll find a way,” Loki said. “I’ve been breaking rules most of my life, I see no reason to stop now.”

Phil threw up his hands. “Well. I guess I wish you luck, then.”

Loki paused. “You’re… not going to try and talk me out of it?”

“No.”

“I quite expected you to argue with me.”

“I don’t do that. I’m aware of the futility,” Phil said. “You’re a smart god, smarter than anyone I know. I expect you’ve got this figured out down to the most minute detail. Just… try not to piss Odin off too much, okay? You’re walking on thin ice there, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. For Judah’s sake, if nothing else.”

“I’ll… do my best,” Loki said, deflating somewhat. “I can’t make any promises. He was angry when Thor brought his sick mortal girlfriend back for treatment. I expect he’ll be downright livid when I bring my adopted mortal son home to stay.”

“Well… maybe Thor can help you out,” Phil suggested. “Maybe he can go back with you, help talk the old man down.”

Loki dismissed the idea out of hand – rely on Thor? Preposterous! – but then the thought resettled in his mind and would not be so easily cast off. Whether Odin had ever truly loved him or had only seen him as a potential political advantage, the fact was, he had always treated Thor as though he were just that much better. Having his brother there to add his voice to his own might truly be a big help in calming the old goat down.

“That… is not… the worst idea I have ever heard…” Loki said. “Odin would always do very nearly anything for Thor. If Thor asked Father to let Judah stay, it might sway him after all, though I think it would still be a greater battle to get him to dispense immortality.”

“Does Odin actually have the power, himself, to make people immortal?” Phil asked.

“Not as far as I’m aware,” Loki said. “No, there is a special… ingredient… in the gardens of Odinhall that holds the blessing of immortality.”

“Like an herb of some kind?” Phil said.

“I don’t think you have anything like it on Midgard,” Loki said. “It’s more like a fruit but it’s also very like a nut…”

“Oh. So it’s like a coconut.”

Loki paused and thought, a sour look on his face. “Not exactly. It’s not hairy and it’s not hollow.”

“What’s it called?”

“The epli.”

“Epli? That’s a… weird name. Sounds like something a woman would shave her legs with… or use as an underarm deodorant.”

“You do know I do not speak English when I’m in Asgard, right?” Loki said. “Some words don’t translate.”

“I guess I never thought about it. Your accent is flawless Cambridge-educated British. Which is more than can be said for Thor, actually. I don’t really know what’s going on there.”

“Thor does not have the Dragon Tongue. He’s not particularly skilled at foreign languages.”

“You’ve mentioned this Dragon Tongue in the past, but I don’t really understand it,” Phil said.

“Dragons have the natural ability to speak all languages, being or beast,” Loki said. “Due to the nature of godly powers, which often come in complementary forms, so can I. Thus, those of Asgard call me ‘Dragon Tongue…’ among other less friendly monikers.”

“How does that complement your other powers?” Phil asked.

“Well, as a shapeshifter or as an illusionist I can assume the appearance of whatever I so choose,” Loki said, with a toss of his hair. “It is certainly useful to be able to communicate with those I am imitating.”

“Does Thor have complementary powers?” Phil asked.

“Sort of. His predominant power is the manipulation of lightning strikes, but he can also control rainfall and, with a little extra effort, the wind.”

“Can he make a tornado?” Phil asked.

“He never has. He probably could if he exerted himself. Oddly enough, despite having had every advantage and every boost to his ego a young god could possibly have, Thor has a little trouble believing in himself. Either that or he is simply lazy.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Father gave Thor Mjolnir as a focus for his powers, to help him control them. Now he believes he cannot call them without it. It’s a fine weapon, but as far as his powers go it is only a crutch that he doesn’t really need. It is like… a Master sorcerer believing he can only cast magic with a wand in his hand. It is not good that he relies so heavily upon it.”

Judah came in from his Earth History class with Jarvis. “Hey, Dad! Hey, Uncle Phil!” he said, dropping his bookbag.

“Hey, kid!” Phil said, waving and smiling. Loki turned toward his son hand plastered a large, rather uncomfortable smile on his own face.  
“Hello, Judah. I have good news for you. You know how you asked me to take you to Asgard?”

Judah frowned, cast his eyes down, then looked back up. “Oh yeah. A long time ago.”

“Well guess what? We’re moving there.”

Judah’s eyes got huge. _“Moving?_ Like, _forever?_ When?”

“As soon as possible.”

“I thought you said your father wouldn’t let me even visit.”

“Don’t worry about that, Judah. It’s all arranged,” Loki said, grinning broadly enough to show every tooth in his mouth. It was amazing how such a handsome god could have such an ugly grin.

“Aren’t you in trouble in Asgard, Dad?” Judah said.

“Trouble is my natural condition, Judah, it won’t be any different there than here.”

“Uncle Phil won’t be there.”

“We do not require Agent Coulson.”

“Who will remind you about birthdays and holidays and things like that?”

“On Asgard time, I require no reminders,” Loki said, brows shadowing his eyes until they were quite dark.

“But I’ll _miss_ him.”

“You’ll make other friends,” Loki said, knowing this was probably not true. Judah would stand out more in Asgard than [i]he[/i] had, having had the advantage of at least looking more or less like an Asgardian. There would be no hiding Judah’s adoption, even if he could be given immortality. Loki was being preeminently selfish, taking the boy to Asgard. It was solely for his own benefit, wasn’t it? Because he could not stand to let the boy live out his own natural mortal lifespan?

But Judah was so smart, at least as smart as the average god, probably smarter. He could do so much with an immortal lifespan. Loki could teach him things he would never, ever learn if he only lived to be a mere eighty human years of age or so. Didn’t he owe the boy a chance to succeed on that scale?

He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, hard. He put his head in his hands. “Judah… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know you’re growing up faster than I can deal with. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. I kinda had a feeling,” Judah said. “You actually held on longer than I expected, but I suppose it really wasn’t that long at all for you.”

Such a smart boy. Loki looked up at him in sadness and pride.

“Do you mind very much?” he said.

Judah shrugged. “It’s not like I’m much of a part of the mortal world. Mr. Fury has me listed as a casualty of the battle of New York. At least in Asgard, I can be a real-life person, I guess. Maybe I really _can_ make some friends.”

Loki smiled. For Judah, anything seemed possible. “Maybe you can.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding a bit of Dragon Age lore in this chapter, Abominations come from the popular video game/comic/novel series of which I am quite fond.

Loki said nothing more about moving over the next couple of days, apparently willing to wait until after Judah’s birthday, or just so unaware of the passage of mortal time that he completely nonplussed the fact that days were passing. Phil wondered if he should ask him when, precisely, he was planning on leaving, but was a little afraid to. Frankly, he was afraid to precipitate action. The last he’d heard, Odin was at least as angry with Loki as Loki was with Odin, and more than capable – and apparently willing – of throwing him in the Asgardian dungeons. Phil liked Loki, though he wasn’t one hundred percent certain he didn’t deserve a little time in the clink for what he had done to New York, and New Mexico before that, but how long would Odin think was appropriate, and what would that do to Judah?

Well, if worse came to worst, Phil would raise him. Assuming Judah wasn’t immortal at that point. If he was, well, Thor would probably take him in, though he was rather awkward with the boy. Probably because of the problems still present in his and Loki’s relationship. Or because he was mortal. Or because Thor just wasn’t used to kids. Thor once told Phil that kids were rather rare in Asgard, with most families only raising one at a time. Having a sibling like Loki, relatively close in age, was a great rarity, and hadn’t really prepared him well for dealing with normal children, Loki having been so determinedly abnormal from the start.

It was at the birthday party that a concerned Thor pulled Phil aside.

“Judah says that he and my brother are moving to Asgard?” he said, brows furrowed. “Do you know of this?”

Phil sighed. “Loki wants to take Judah there so he can be made immortal, and live on a longer timespan,” he said, though he didn’t think it should be up to him to tell Thor this.

Thor looked, in a word, thunderstruck. “That will never happen,” he said. “Father will never allow that. He believes that immortality is not to be handed out like that.”

“Loki said as much. He said he’ll get it for Judah no matter what it takes.”

And it was Thor’s turn to grab the lapels of Phil’s jacket and raise him off the ground, though the expression on his face was not so much anger as dismay. “If Loki goes against Father, the best he can hope for is a life sentence in the dungeons of Asgard,” he said, his blue eyes wide. “The best.”

“I know. But you’re much better able to stop him than I am,” Phil said, trying to remain calm as he dangled there in the god’s fist. “He’d beat me into a bloody paste without even thinking about breaking a sweat.”

Thor lowered him gently to the floor. His face now was stricken. “But I cannot do that, because I understand where he’s coming from,” he said. “I am in similar straits. Jane does not age so swiftly before my eyes as Judah does before Loki’s, perhaps, but always am I mindful that time is rapidly running out for us. If I could give her immortality, believe me, I would.”

“So… you’re going to let him go for it?”

“I… think I have to. As grief-stricken as I shall be when Jane is gone, that would be nothing compared to the loss of a child.”

“You don’t think it’s kind of selfish, forcing Judah into a life he’s not made for, just to spare Loki the grief of losing him when he’s the adult in the situation?” Phil said, playing devil’s advocate.

Thor gave him a look of close scrutiny. “Loki has known enough of grief,” he said in a tight voice.

“Yeah. He told me about… ‘the incident,’” Phil said, employing Thor’s term for Loki’s captivity.

Thor’s eyes went wide again. “He actually spoke of it? To you? He must truly consider you a friend. Or he meant to mess with your mind completely. He speaks of that time to no one. Did he tell you much?”

“Just the bare fact of it, really, but that’s more than I’ve gotten out of him previously,” Phil admitted. “He told me how he was taken prisoner, held and… erm… treated… badly… for most of an Asgardian year… and how you came to his rescue. I can tell he resents that, but I know it’s because you saw him in a vulnerable position.”

Thor’s face blanched. “It was horrible,” he said. “They had him hanging by his wrists, and he was naked. He was all sliced up and beaten… I hardly recognized him. They were trying to make him summon a demon, but he wouldn’t do it.”

“Is that something a sorcerer does?”

“That’s something a sorcerer does just before he loses complete control of his mind and joins with the demon,” Thor said. “They become an Abomination, an immensely powerful magical creature that is neither god nor demon, but a hideous conjoining of both. I don’t fully understand how it works, and I definitely don’t know what they thought they could do with such a beast, but apparently they thought he would be of some value to them if they could control him afterwards. I have never heard of anyone controlling an Abomination. A single one can decimate legions.”

“Is there a way to save the sorcerer after… after it happens?” Phil said.

Thor shook his head. “The best you can do is kill them, and it’s damnably hard. According to father, the prospect of Abominations are why the training for mages and Battlemages are so much more stringent and… well… brutal… than the training for Warriors. Loki has had it rough from the beginning, truth be told, all because of his cursed magic.”

“Is that why he doesn’t use it anymore?” Phil asked. “He’s tired of being pushed too far because of it?”

Thor shook his head. “Loki is stronger than that. No. I am almost positive that the reason he doesn’t use it any longer is because he’s afraid he will accidentally summon a demon. I think they brought him to the edge of it, and now he thinks he stands there forever.”

“Is that something you can… accidentally… do?” Phil asked.

“Yes. They are drawn to weakness of will. I don’t understand the mechanics fully, but casting magic opens the doorway for them, somehow, and it is only the strength of your will that keeps them out.”

Phil shivered. “How do guys like Doc Strange manage to keep from becoming Abominations?” he asked.

“Simple. They are not gods.”

“Oh. It’s a god thing.”

“Not precisely; there are only a few realms with connection to demonic planes of existence. Asgard is, unfortunately, one of them. Midgard is not. When you encounter demons, they have to take much harder paths to get here.”

“So he’s actually safe as long as he’s here.”

“Yes. I am certain he knows that, but knowing something and actually feeling it are often two different things. Particularly since he has not lived here very long.”

Phil reminded himself that four Earth years was nothing to Thor and Loki. Phil wondered whether a week of Asgardian time had passed since Colonel Fury gave the order to bring Loki in on the Avengers project, more or less just to keep an eye on him. It was mind-boggling.

“Why doesn’t he get help?” Phil said. “He told me about Asgardian sanitariums, they sound great. We should be so lucky here. Our idea of mental hospitals is usually a room where we leave people to scream and an orderly to watch and see that you don’t hurt yourself.”

“He is stubborn and prideful,” Thor said. “He thinks because the short time he spent in one when he first came home did not work to cure him of all the ills inflicted upon him, that they are nonsense and good for nothing.”

“He’s too smart to be that stupid,” Phil said.

Thor shook his head. “Sometimes the smartest people are capable of the most frustrating forms of stupidity,” he said, with a wisdom that was startling coming from him. Phil was used to thinking of him as rather dumb for a god.

“You learn a lot over an immortal lifetime,” Phil said.

“You learn a lot being Loki’s brother,” Thor said. “He is both the most intelligent and the most stubbornly idiotic person I know. When we were children he was quiet and studious, always serious, except for the bare fact that I was always larger everyone thought he was older than I, and you could not find a more stalwart friend. Now that we are grown he is childish and fractious, prankish and often downright mean, not to mention unreliable.”

“He’s been doing well lately,” Phil said.

“Has he?” Thor said.

“Well… maybe you haven’t noticed… because from your perspective, it’s only been a couple of days or so,” Phil said, with a lame tongue.

“I wouldn’t trust any change you think you’ve seen to stick, Son of Coul. Loki is clever and manipulative. He was that way even when we were children, he just used it to our advantage back then, rather than merely his own.”

“Well, I don’t know about his ability to stick to the changes,” Phil said, “but I think he genuinely wants to change. For Judah.”

Thor stood where he was and appeared to think about it. “I have often wondered exactly why he adopted the boy. It seems highly out of character, even before his personality shifted it would have been somewhat out of character. Does he truly want to change? Is the boy a pawn in some sort of game Loki is playing? Is it some sort of whim? Loki is so difficult to read that I cannot decide which is the most likely.”

“I’m… actually… fairly convinced that he loves Judah,” Phil said. “I know that may be hard to believe. Even I have trouble believing it sometimes. I… think he wants to be a good father. And I… think he wants the time to do it right, in his way.”

Thor clapped Phil on the shoulder, not as hard as he could but hard enough to make the agent stagger. “I will speak to him of this,” he said. “Perhaps I can convince him to think a little harder about his plans to go against Father. And… perhaps I can help him come up with some plan to convince Father to _acquiesce_ to his desire to make Judah immortal. Something that won’t see him killed or in prison for the rest of his life.”

“I would like that,” Phil said. “Just… don’t mention me, please? He might… _kill_ me, if he thought I put you up to it.”


	25. ...................

All in all, Phil was happy that Thor knew about the plan, and he was fairly certain that the God of Thunder would act quickly – Thor wasn’t a god to procrastinate. He was, truthfully, more than a little worried about Loki’s reaction to Thor’s coming up to him and, doubtless, demanding he rethink his plans, whatever they might be, but if anyone could keep him from killing innocent people (Phil), and that was a big if, then it was Thor.

And truthfully, Phil hadn’t trusted Loki to ever speak to Thor about his plans, no matter what he’d said about doing so. Phil wanted to keep him alive almost as much as he wanted to stay alive himself.

Phil returned to the party with a relatively light heart. He still worried; Thor was not tactful, Loki was damnably sensitive, and even if everything went perfectly Phil was looking at losing a friend and… well, Judah called him “uncle” but while Loki was being a good father, a startlingly good father all things considered, perhaps because of Loki’s forgetfulness Judah felt very much more like a son to Phil than a nephew. Phil knew, if Judah went to Asgard, he would be very lucky indeed to ever see him again. It was just the way things worked up there. Thor made frequent trips back and forth but Loki wouldn’t be that way. Thor had a mortal girlfriend and enjoyed working with the Avengers but there was nothing on Earth to draw Loki back except, perhaps, some type of mischief. And Loki would forget how much time was passing on Earth as mere days went by on the other side of the Bifrost. That was probably why the Vikings eventually decided that the gods had abandoned them and converted to Christianity. The Asgardians paid them a visit one day and then just forgot to come back for a thousand years or so.

Phil had a good idea that the next time Loki thought about paying him a visit, he would be long dead in his grave, of old age if nothing else.

“Brother, Judah tells me you plan to move home to Asgard,” Thor said in his biggest, most booming voice. Phil cringed over his slice of ice cream cake. “I wonder if you have thought it through completely.”

Phil wondered if Thor had ever thought anything through completely. Saying something like that to Loki was like lighting a match and tossing it into a swimming pool filled with Sterno.

Loki ate his bite of cake and carefully lay down his fork. “I have given it some thought, Brother,” he said in a tight voice.

“Judah made it sound very sudden.”

“My plans often come across as very sudden, because I do not tell people about them until I am ready to put them into action.”

“Do you then have some idea of how to get Father to acquiesce to making Judah immortal?” Thor said.

“Of course. I will simply offer him whatever he wants in exchange.”

“What if he wants nothing?”

“Then I shall punt. But have no fear: everyone wants something, especially Odin.”

“What if what he wants is your incarceration, Brother? He is still very angry with you.”

“Then I shall go to the dungeons with my head held high.”

“What good will that do?” Thor said, a little desperately. “If you are in the dungeons it doesn’t matter if Judah is mortal or immortal.”

“Yes it does.”

_“Why?”_ Thor said, pleading with Loki.

_“Because he’s my son!”_ Loki shouted, his pale face turning momentarily red. A lick of flame curled out of his mouth, but perhaps that was an illusion. He clamped his lips closed and seemed unwilling to speak further, but apparently he had more to say. After a moment of silence he said, in a carefully moderate tone of voice, “I do not care what happens to me. That is not important. What is important is that Judah has a chance to live and to learn and to be for the world, mortal or immortal, whatever he wishes to be. Whatever it is, I know it will be something good. And yes, perhaps, if Judah does grow up to be what I perceive of him, whether it be a doctor or a dancer or a sorcerer or a scientist, I can find a modicum of vicarious redemption in that way.”

“Leave it to you to bring selfishness into altruism,” Thor said.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to think too well of me,” Loki said.

Most of the party-goers were staring at the brothers now; the rest were carefully looking anywhere else. Judah was looking down at the plate of cake he held. He didn’t look overly happy.

“I’m… sorry I snapped at you, Brother,” Loki said, eyes now on Judah. “I’m trying to watch my bad temper, but it gets the best of me more often than I like.”

“I never thought I’d hear you apologize for anything, Brother,” Thor said.

“Yes… well… that, too, is something that needs to change, I suppose.”

For the second year in a row, the mood of Judah’s birthday party was disturbed. This time, Phil didn’t know how to help it recover. Loki, however, seemed to have some idea.

“Phil, perhaps you can help me with something. I’ve had it in my head for the longest time, and I simply cannot remember. Do you recall the old show, _Captain Kangaroo?_ What was it that Bunny Rabbit used to try and get the Captain to say all the time?”

Phil should have been wary. Hell, he should have known what to expect. But he was so surprised to hear Loki ask a question about a long-gone television show he should, by rights, know nothing about that he momentarily forgot who he was dealing with.

“Ping pong balls?” he said.

A cascade of ping pong balls, thousands of them, rained down from the ceiling as though his words were a trigger while Loki laughed like a maniac. The guests sat in shocked silence as they were bombarded with soft missiles. Judah rolled on the floor and giggled.

_“Oh, every time it rains it rains,”_ Loki sang, as the downpour continued. How many ping pong balls did he have up there? “Ah, those have been up there for months.”

Natasha was the first of the party-goers to start laughing as the rain of balls continued, then Bruce Banner joined her. Soon everyone was laughing, scooping up ping pong balls, and tossing them at each other.

“I hope I don’t have to clean this up,” Phil said, even as he laughed.


	26. ...................

A few days later, Loki and Judah made ready to leave. They sent their things on ahead via the Bifrost, just a few possessions, almost entirely belonging to Judah, from which they couldn’t bear to be parted. Loki preferred to travel light, and did not form many attachments. Thor insisted on going with them, to help in whatever way he could. Phil was there to see them on their way.

“I wish I was going with you,” he said, frowning. “Just to help out however I could.”

“That might prove more harmful than helpful, Son of Coul,” Thor said. “Father would be livid if we brought yet another mortal to Asgard.”

“I wish you _could_ come with us, Uncle Phil,” Judah said.

Loki looked at the boy. “Perhaps he should,” he said. “Odin will be angry either way. Coulson can look after Judah while I deal with him.”

“Why can’t I look after him?” Thor said, clearly affronted.

“Aren’t you going to help me deal with Father?” Loki said.

“Shouldn’t the boy be there?” Thor said.

“As nasty as it is likely to prove,[i] no, [/i]he should not,” Loki said.

“You just can’t be separated from your wife,” Thor said.

“My what?”

“Your wife.”

Loki punched Thor hard enough to knock him through Stark’s plate glass window. Thor picked himself up and dusted himself off. “That… seems like a touch of an overreaction,” he said.

“Teasing me is one thing, Brother. _Do not_ bring my friends into it,” Loki said.

Thor rubbed his sore jaw. “Like you have any,” he said.

“He has me,” Phil said.

“First friend he’s ever had,” Thor shot back.

“Wrong, Brother,” Loki said. “The first friend I ever had was Heimdall – although at the time, he would not tell me his name.”

“Heimdall was your first friend?” Thor said.

“I would not have survived school without him,” Loki said, “though his age in relation to mine meant we only shared one year together.”

“I didn’t know you went to school with Heimdall,” Thor said, his face a blank.

“Well, it’s not like he talks,” Loki said.

“Wait – Heimdall went to Sorcerer School? Since when is he a sorcerer?” Thor said.

“He’s not a particularly good one, as it goes, particularly for an IAMA alumnus. But he is skilled in magic. It helps him summon the Dark Energy.”

“Sorcery helps you summon Dark Energy? I thought that was purely a god-power thing,” Thor said.

“The amount of ‘god power’ you can muster is the primary force, but being able to compensate with magic is always a good thing. Let’s get going. He’s probably getting peeved at us for talking about him like this,” Loki said. “Phil, are you coming?”

Phil looked at Judah, who looked back at him hopefully. Phil was torn. On one hand, gods were terrifying when emotions were high, and Phil wasn’t sure if he had ever really seen one truly _angry_ before. And Odin was the Grand High Holy Poobah of gods. Everything Thor and Loki said suggested his power was fading, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t strong enough to vaporize Margery Coulson’s little boy Philip. But that look in Judah’s eyes could not be ignored, and how many humans could say they’d been to the actual home of the Norse gods?

“I’m coming,” he said, with only minor misgivings.

“Then stand close by. And you might want to clench up,” Loki said. “First-time travelers tend to find the Bifrost… disturbing.”

“What does it feel li –” Phil started to say, but then he found out as the brilliant beam of light surrounded them where they stood and all of them – Phil, Thor, Loki, Judah, and the cat Hopwaffle clinging to Loki’s shoulder for dear life – were whisked through Quantum Space at faster than light speeds. It was horrible, and exhilarating, and fortunately it was over reasonably quickly, before Phil’s stomach could catch up with his body and empty itself out of one or both ends. He sank to the floor of the golden Observatory, blind to its beauties, and tried to compose himself.

“Welcome home,” a deep, calm voice said. “Welcome to Asgard, Philip Coulson.”

Phil climbed to his feet, still woozy. “That’s the guy that sees and hears everything, right?” he said quietly to Thor and Loki. “Heimdall?”

“That I am,” Heimdall said, swinging the great Bifrost sword around and slipping it easily into the sheath on his back. “And if I can hear you speak on Midgard, I can hear you whisper right in front of me.”

“Oh yeah,” Phil said. “I never thought of that. Um… doesn’t that get kinda… loud? And confusing?”

“I learned long ago to cope with my powers,” Heimdall said. “You do that, when you are a god. Or you go mad.”

“We’re not certain that he didn’t go mad,” Loki said, not bothering to keep his voice low. “But he’s a useful sort of crazy, if he is insane.”

“I could say the same of you, my Prince,” Heimdall said.

“What’s useful about Loki?” Thor said.

“He has his value,” Heimdall said. He walked to the door of the Observatory, and Phil swallowed hard. Loki was grace, Thor was power; Heimdall was a hefty amount of both, with a deep, unspoken threat. This was no god to cross. Phil was glad Heimdall wasn’t the King, and therefore wasn’t the one they had to stare down today, but it made him nervous as to what to expect from Odin.

“You realize I have to tell him you’ve arrived,” Heimdall said, and for a moment Phil thought he had read his mind.

“I know,” Loki said. “I expected you to do so.”

Heimdall stood silently at the Observatory door for a long moment, then turned back to them. “The message is sent. He was very… [i]unhappy.”[/i]

“So wait – you _can_ read minds?” Phil said.

Heimdall blinked his strange orange eyes at him. “I can communicate mind-to-mind,” he said. “‘Reading minds’, as you put it, just adds to the jumble of information I am already bombarded with at every moment. I do not do it unless I am forced to do so. Prince Loki can attest to how… _unpleasant…_ it can be.”

Phil turned at the waist and gave a look at Loki. “Loki can read minds?” he said.

“Only if I literally touch your head,” Loki said. He sounded put out. A secret he didn’t want revealed? Most likely.

Even Thor was looking at Loki now. “I didn’t know you could read minds, Brother,” he said.

“Yeah, there’s a lot about me you don’t know,” Loki said. “I like it that way.”

“It might be easier to… you know… _connect_ with you, if I knew more about you. I mean, great galloping ancestors, you’re only my brother,” Thor said, with an expressive roll of the eyes.

“Yes, well, we both know that’s not true,” Loki said.

“Oh, get off your bloody [i]‘Poor me, I was adopted!’[/i] routine!” Thor said, giving Loki an angry shove. “It was stale in New Mexico. Mother and Father raised you, they love you, I love you, we’re a bloody family, same as if we shared blood. Better than some families that share blood.”

“This could well be true,” Phil said. “Families are always crazy, blood or not. I have a sister I would happily push off a cliff, and I think most people would say I was generally easy to get along with.”

“You could make friends with Gengis Khan and the Marquis de Sade and still be besties with L. M. Montgomery and Shirley Temple,” Loki said.

“Couldn’t come up with anybody more modern than Temple?” Phil said.

“What’s not modern about them?” Loki said.

“Nothing, forget I said anything.”

“The guards are here,” Heimdall said, and opened the door. Six green and gold-liveried guards with horned helmets, carrying long spears in an upright position, came marching in. Their uniforms did not look too dissimilar to what Loki wore as armor, which was surprising, really – Phil would have thought Loki would want to distinguish himself as much as possible from anyone considered “common” or “in service.” Of course, what Loki wore had a great deal more style and panache.

“We will take you to the palace,” said the guard in the middle, who seemed to be the leader, though nothing visible distinguished him as being of higher rank. “His Majesty is eager to speak with you.”

“I just bet,” Loki said, and took off out of the room, leading Judah. Thor and Phil and the six guards hurried to keep up with him.


	27. ...................

Asgard was beautiful, but rather gaudy overall, Phil thought, with rainbow streets and a towering golden palace. The common areas were more to his liking, with comfortable-looking houses with a lot of decorative woodwork on the outsides. He didn’t have much time to gawk, however, as they traversed the street usually traveled by flyers or at least on horseback with remarkable rapidity due to the pace Loki set. They headed straight for the golden palace at top speed and straight through the front doors, where another guard scrambled to get ahead of them and announce their arrival.

Odin waved the guard off. “I know they’re here,” he said. He stood at the bloody edge of the dais where the throne stood, gripping the legendary magical spear Gungnir as though he itched to use it on someone. His face, what was visible beneath gray-blond beard and golden eyepatch, was furious. Phil thought he was probably shorter than Thor and overall he was running strongly to seed, but he still looked very powerful despite the gut his golden armor failed to hide completely. “Loki. Do you enjoy pissing me off? Is that why you make such a habit of it?”

“It’s not why I make a _habit_ of it Father, no; I simply consider it a side-benefit,” Loki said, and Phil and Thor both winced. Thor made a subtle gesture at Loki to try and tell him without words to “tone it down,” and Phil gathered Judah to his side, as if he really thought he could protect him if Odin decided to cut loose.

“You bring _mortals_ to this immortal realm,” Odin said, and his strong voice seethed with rage. “Not just one but _two._ The one it amuses you to call your ‘son’ and your bloody _servant!_ This is an outrage, and goes against Asgardian law!”

“The law you put down, and could change in a heartbeat,” Loki said calmly. “And by the way, it doesn’t ‘amuse’ me to call Judah my son, he _is_ my son. And Phil is not my ‘servant,’ he is my _friend._ He is only here temporarily, to help me protect Judah from your self-righteous anger.”

“Impudent boy!” Odin said. “You are digging your own grave!”

“You kind of are,” Thor said out the side of his mouth. “I advise temperance, Brother.”

“For Judah’s sake, if nothing else,” Phil said, giving Loki a meaningful look.

Loki took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Father, I have come to beg you to allow myself and my son to live in Asgard,” he said.

“Mortals cannot exist in Asgard,” Odin said, choosing, at least for the moment, to adopt the same stiffly polite tone that Loki used. “It is a simple matter of science. They cannot tolerate the slow flow of time here. A few days of it, and it would become quite unhealthy for him, mind and body.”

“Not… if he ate of the epli,” Loki said. Odin drew himself up even taller somehow, and stared hard at his younger son.

“I knew you were thinking it, but I did not believe that even _you_ would have the _audacity_ to suggest such a thing,” he said. “You know that immortality is not a party favor to be handed out like candy.”

_“Surely_ this is a time to make an _exception,_ Your Majesty?” Loki said. _“Your grandson?”_

“That,” Odin said, pointing at Judah with his free hand, “is _not_ my grandson.” From the Queen’s throne slightly behind the King’s came the sound of a sharp intake of breath.

Loki also drew himself up taller, and stared hard at Odin. “Is that how you feel?” he said. “Does that mean, then, that I, also adopted, am _not_ your son? Because you swore up and down to me that I _was.”_

“That is not the same,” Odin said.

“How is it not the same?” Loki said, and flames were sprouting up from his body now. “Are you truly so much of a hypocrite?”

“Brother, calm yourself,” Thor said, backing off slightly. “If you lose control of your powers, everyone will suffer for it.”

Loki subsided, and the flames went out. Phil might have been imagining it, but he thought Odin looked slightly spooked. He was covering it, but there was the faintest flicker of something in his one visible eye that looked to him like fear.

“It is different because I _love_ you,” Odin said, “and we have a wealth of time and memories behind us that make us family. You cannot honestly say you have enough time invested in this child to make him more to you than just another of your idle childish whims.”

_“Odin!”_

A strong figure in a sweeping, elegant gown stormed up from behind the throne: Queen Frigga, and she was as angry as anyone had ever seen her. Odin did not quail before her wrath, but he did seem to shrink somewhat, even to deflate slightly.

“You have something to add, my love?” he said, somewhat warily.

“I have something to say to _you,_ you old goat,” she said. It was the first time anyone had ever heard her speak disrespectfully to the King. “How _dare_ you say that Loki doesn’t love his son? The love of a father is not measured by _time.”_

“He is not the boy’s father,” Odin said.

“He _is._ He is every bit as much that boy’s father as you are Loki’s,” Frigga said. “And every bit as _good,_ if not better. It’s only natural for him to want the boy to live an immortal life alongside him.”

“You are saying I was a bad father?” Odin said.

“No, I am not,” Frigga said, drawing back slightly and putting her hands together before her. “But once you discovered that Loki would not be the warrior of your dreams, the warrior that _Thor_ would be, you did become rather dismissive of him, Husband. I highly doubt that Loki will ever make the same mistake. He knows how hurtful it is to a child. Plus… you still _treat_ him as if he were a child. He is a _grown god,_ Husband, however immaturely his powers make him act at times, and he isn’t as irresponsible as you make him out to be.”

“Treason? Attempted fratricide? Is this how you define maturity and responsibility?” Odin said.

Frigga shook her head. “I make no excuses for his actions, Husband. He is a grown god, and no one but himself is responsible for what he says or does. But I think he would not have done those things if he had felt more as though he were of value to you as your son.”

“He wanted the bloody throne!”

“He wanted your _attention._ And your love. Husband, he is still very young, and he went about it in a childish manner, I admit, but just as Thor did when you banished him to Midgard, he has _grown._ Please, meet him halfway.”

Odin turned and walked to the throne, where he stood with his back to everyone and his head down. “You say I became dismissive of the boy when I found out he would be learning sorcery. Perhaps it is true. But do not think for a moment that I did not care. Indeed, if I distanced myself, it was only because I was frightened for the boy. And… because his studies reminded me of my shame.”

He turned to face them again and raised his head. “When I was tested for school, it was discovered that I had a minor aptitude for sorcery myself. My father refused to send me to a school for the Magic Arts, and instead enrolled me in the finest Warrior program that existed at the time. But I was intrigued by the idea of magic: I studied in secret, by myself, and like any foolish child, I got in trouble. If it hadn’t been for the timely intervention of the Court Battlemage, I would have found myself possessed by a demon. I could not look at my father thereafter that I did not see shame in his eyes, and I feel to this day that my disgrace hastened his death.”

Phil checked Loki’s reaction to this story and saw none. Not wholly unexpected; Loki typically only showed his feelings when he chose to do so.

“So that was _your_ shame I saw in your eye when you looked at me back then, Father. Not the shame you felt at having an Adept for a son?” Loki said, more than a bit insolently.

“If you saw shame then, it was my own,” Odin said. “However, your actions in recent days have brought shame to this family in your own right.”

“Granted. Now, about Judah.”

Odin stood and seethed for a moment, then pointed at the nearest door. “Get the boy out of the throne room,” he said.

“You mean Judah, right? Because that’s the way you typically refer to me,” Loki said.

“Just… get him out of here. We will ‘discuss’ this matter… when he is out of our presence.”

Loki turned to Frigga. “Mother, would you mind terribly showing Judah and Hopwaffle and my dear friend Phil your sitting room? I think you will find them all quite good company.”

“It would be my pleasure, my son,” Her Majesty said, and she gestured for them to follow her. When they were gone, Loki turned back to look at Odin.

“Right. To business. What do you want in exchange for Judah’s immortality?” he said.

“Immortality is not a product to be bargained for.”

“I know you, Father – you are as unbending as Asgardian steel,” Loki said. “But every god wants something; every god has a bargaining point. Even you. I am willing to give you anything you wish, anything at all, in exchange for what I want for my son. Just tell me what it is you want. I won’t even bother to haggle with you.”

Odin stared at his son. Thor spread his hands and said, “Father, this is Loki being reasonable.”

Odin stomped down the steps of the dais and up to Loki so that he stood face to face with him. He cocked his head slightly so that he could see more clearly into both of Loki’s deep green eyes. “Do you really mean anything? Anything at all that I desire?”

Loki stared back steadily. “Anything at all.”

Odin turned and walked back up onto the dais. He turned again and assumed a regal stance, as though he were about to make a royal proclamation. “Very well. I will give your… son… the epli… after you receive treatment at Asgard’s best Sanitarium.”

Loki immediately began to protest. Odin cut his sputtering off with a raised hand. “A mere three days and a few hours. He will survive that much time unprotected in Asgard’s atmosphere without suffering.”

“But he will age!” Loki said. “And I won’t be there!”

“He will not age much. At his tender age, the immortal air and power of Asgard will sink into him and keep him from aging at his normal mortal rate, though it will not be as though he had partaken of the epli. You will not find him much changed by the time you return, though I am certain he will miss you. You were prepared, were you not, for me to throw you into the dungeons for the rest of your life? Surely missing him for three Asgardian days is better than missing him for the rest of eternity.”

“But – I don’t understand, Father. What good do you think a mere three days in a Sanitarium will serve?” Loki said, a little desperately.

“I, too, find this difficult to understand, Father,” Thor said. “Three days’ treatment is nothing, and Loki’s brains are quite scrambled.” Loki shot him a dirty look. “Are you hoping he will develop a taste for Sanitariums in that time, and agree to further treatment? He _hated_ it the last time he was there.”

“I am hoping for nothing more than that he comes back a trifle more relaxed than he is now. And that he gives the treatment a little more consideration than he did the first time around,” Odin said. “I don’t expect it to actually have any perceptible result in such a short time, but I am hoping that this ‘growth’ your mother says has happened will, perhaps, happen some more during that time.”

Loki straightened his shoulders. “Very well, Father – three days in the Sanitarium, and then Judah becomes immortal. Where does he stay in the meantime?”

“He will be comfortable enough in your room, I think,” Odin said, rather as though he did not care to think about the matter. “Frigga will no doubt make much of him while you are gone. Will your… ‘friend’… be staying to take care of him for you?”

Loki’s eyes widened. It had never occurred to him that there would be any question Phil would go immediately back to Asgard after the negotiation.

“It wasn’t in the plan for him to stay, and I am certain it wasn’t in his plan to stay, but… I could ask him if he would, if it would please you. He would probably like to have a bit of extra time with Judah. He’s quite fond of the boy.”

“You make the arrangements with your friend. I will see to the arrangements with the Sanitarium. We will have this underway post haste, for the boy’s sake. He cannot afford our wasting too much time.”

“Very well. I will leave you to it, then,” Loki said, and bowed his way out of the throne room.


	28. ...................

“So, how did it go?” Frigga said, eyeing her son nervously as he strode into her sitting room with a somewhat distracted look.

“Fine. Fine. Father is willing. In three days, Judah will be immortal,” Loki said, not looking any more “there” than before.

“That’s wonderful!” Frigga said, clapping her hands together. “But why three days?”

“I had to make him an offer. He accepted.”

“What… what did you offer?”

“I offered to give him whatever he wanted.”

“And… what did he… _want?”_

“My interment in a Sanitarium.”

“Interment is a rather harsh term. It would be for a short time only, isn’t that so?”

“Three days.”

“Well. That’s not so bad.”

“No. No, that’s not… so bad.”

Frigga stood up and crossed to him. She put her hands on his arms. “I am grateful that you are willing to give this a chance, my son.”

“I’ve… done some talking… about this… with Coulson. I didn’t expect to be forced into it, but I’m not entirely against the idea,” Loki said, not meeting her eye. “For Judah, I’m willing to do anything it takes.”

“You’re a good father, my son. It does my heart good to see it,” Frigga said, smiling warmly. “Judah is a lovely boy, simply lovely.”

“I’m glad you think so, Mother, because you know I’m relying heavily on you to look after him for the next three days,” Loki said.

“It will be my honor and my joy.”

Phil stood up. “I just want to say I’m happy with the way things turned out, too,” he said. “Could have been a lot worse, right? Three days may not be much but it’s a lot longer up here than it is on Earth… maybe a few issues can be resolved. But, uh… I am kind of wondering what will happen with Judah in the course of three Asgardian days. Isn’t that at least a week on Earth? How will he stand the sleep schedule?”

“Not well, I fear, but there’s nothing forcing him to live on an Asgardian schedule just now,” Loki said. “If Father’s information is accurate and [i]truthful,[/i] his aging processes are already slowing just from being here. I don’t want him to age so much as a bloody week without me being there. Three days is bad enough.”

“But if you come back a bit more relaxed, a bit calmer in your mind, you’ll be able to enjoy your time with him so much more,” Frigga said. “And then he’ll eat the epli and you’ll have so much more time to share with him.”

“Yes, I know. It is a good trade.”

Loki sat down in a chair near the door, and he still looked as though he didn’t see anyone or anything in the room. Frigga and Phil looked at him with identical expressions of worry. Finally he looked up.

“Phil, Father sort of half-suggested half-commanded that I ask you to stay for the three days to help mother look after Judah while I’m gone. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but it would ease my mind considerably, and I thought you might not be entirely adverse to the idea. It occurs to me that I should perhaps have asked you away from Judah, so that he would not apply undue pressure on you, but then, a little undue pressure never hurt anybody.”

“I’m confused,” Phil said. “Is it a question, or a royal command?”

Loki smiled. “It’s a question.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll stay. Especially if word can be sent back to Colonel Fury about why I’m AWOL.”

“Dad?” Judah’s voice came, very small, from the back of the room.

“Yes, Judah?” Loki said.

Judah stepped forward just a few steps, out of the shadows into the light. His face was worried. “Are you really going to be gone a whole week? Maybe longer?”

“No, Judah. Only three days.”

“Three days your time, but to me it will be more like a week or even longer. Right?”

“Well… yes, I suppose it will seem that way.”

Judah swallowed. “You said you’d have to go away again, but then you didn’t. I… guess I kinda got comfortable thinking you wouldn’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But think of it this way: It’s just a week. It might have been permanent.”

“What do you mean?”

“I quite expected my father to have me jailed.”

Judah’s jaw dropped. “Wh – _what?”_

Loki shrugged. “I thought it was a real possibility. He fully intended to do it before the Avengers gave me an ‘out.’ Honestly, I don’t know how he’ll smooth things over with the people if he doesn’t punish me in some way, but I’ll worry about that later.”

“What does that mean?” Judah said.

“I committed treason, and tried to kill my own brother, the rightful heir to the throne,” Loki said, gently enough. “If he lets me off scot-free, the people won’t like it. They’ll make their voices heard. If they yell loudly enough, even Odin will have to listen.”

“But they won’t, will they? They’ll do what the King says,” Judah said, spooked.

“They usually do.” _Even when they think their king has gone mad,_ Loki thought privately, remembering his time impersonating Odin. He’d been obeyed, if reluctantly. Perhaps because they knew who he really was and were afraid of him. In retrospect, commissioning the thirty-foot golden statue of himself had been a bit of a gimme. Perhaps Frigga was being a bit too generous in suggesting that he had grown.

“So it’ll be okay, then,” Judah said, visibly relaxing.

“More than likely. I shouldn’t worry about it, my boy.”

Judah walked over and gave Loki a huge hug. “I can’t help it, Daddy.”

Loki hugged him back. “I know. I’m sorry, my boy – I didn’t mean to make you worry, I just thought you should know the lie of the land.”

Judah pulled away a little and sniffled back his tears. “When are you going?” he said.

“As soon as Father can arrange it, no doubt. Probably in a few hours’ time, if being King means anything to a Sanitarium. Waiting would only be harder, physically and mentally, on you – not to mention the problems it would cause for Uncle Phil.”

“Oh… well. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back, right?”

“Right.”

“Then I’ll be okay. I want you to get better.”

“And I want to get better for you,” Loki said, drawing Judah back in for another hug.


	29. ...................

Later that evening, Loki hugged Judah goodbye and took a flyer with several royal guards to the same fine institution he had bad memories of from a thousand Asgardian years ago. It was not an imposing, industrial building like most Earth mental institutions; instead it was a beautiful, serene edifice somewhat resembling classical Japanese architecture. It was not very large, for it did not serve many patients at a time – there were many such institutions in Asgard, and swift transportation was affordable, so a place like this, funded by the government, could afford to keep capacity limited. It sat surrounded by tranquil sculpture gardens. All in all, a wonderful place to rest. Loki just wasn’t the resting type.

He was placed in a spacious, airy, simple room, and told to make himself comfortable. He sat on the bloody edge of the bed and crossed his arms and legs and rocked back and forth. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he knew something was coming. It was inevitable.

What came was a shortish, willowy blonde, dressed in the flowing white robes of a Healer. She smiled at him with a perky smile.

“Hello, I am your Healer – or one of them, actually. You’ve been assigned two of us. My name is Angrboda, I’ll be handling the afternoon and night shifts for you while you’re with us.”

“Your name is what now?” Loki said.

She laughed, an annoying titter. “I always get that reaction. Angrboda.”

“Is that old Asgardian, or are you from another realm?” Loki asked.

“I’m half-Vanir, but I don’t know what realm or age my name comes from, honestly,” she said, and a look on her face suggested that he drop the issue.

“You said you’re the night-shift Healer. Does this constitute the night shift? I rather thought it was only early evening.”

She smiled her bright smile again, lighting up her bright blue eyes. “No, not typically, but your morning and evening shift Healer had loose ends to tie up regarding her old patient. So I’m pulling an extra-long shift this once, filling in for her. I’m actually an apprentice healer, not a fully accredited healer, and ordinarily the initial detoxification period would be handled by someone with more experience – like Sigyn – but Sigyn isn’t here, so congratulations, you get me! I assure you, I may be underappreciated, but I am fully capable.”

Loki nodded. “Yes, I know how that goes.”

“I read your chart, and I saw you’ve been here before. You are familiar, then, with the detoxification process?”

“It’s been awhile. I probably need a refresher.”

“Well, first, we’re going to give you a long, hot bath,” she said, with another of those bright smiles. “The water is drawn from the Asgardian sea and concentrated so that the salt content is twice as high as normal. You may be aware that Asgardian sea salt has purification qualities, not to mention it is great for the skin and has a soothing effect on aches and pains. The bath is kept at a constant temperature so you don’t have to worry about it cooling while you relax. You’ll come out feeling like a million Borrsons, sure enough.”

Loki looked at her curiously. “Are you naturally this perky, or is it just your professional demeanor?”

She laughed again, that same annoying titter. “I’m a happy person. I like to have fun. You understand that, don’t you, god of mischief?” she said, and tipped him a wink. “Truthfully, working here can be kind of depressing. Wounded warriors, their minds in turmoil… it gets hard to stay cheerful. But I do try. Otherwise, I might end up a patient here myself.”

“I suppose so,” he said.

“All right. Your bath awaits: get out of that nasty tight armor and let’s get a move on. Judging from the way you’re sitting, you need this pretty badly.”

He didn’t move.

“Well?” she said.

“Could I have some privacy, please?” he said. “Perhaps a robe as well?”

She gave him a wide-eyed look of curiosity. “Don’t tell me you’re shy. I’ve never met a god who had a problem stepping out of his clothes in front of all and anyone, let alone a healer.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“It can’t be a self-esteem issue – you’re very handsome.”

“You are kind to say so, though an Asgardian goddess would not agree with you. No, it is not that.”

“Then what?”

“I just do not like to take my clothes off, that is all.”

“You realize that I am under orders from administration – and they are under orders from the King – to keep an eye on you at all times? I am actually not allowed to leave you until my shift is up. I am going to see you naked in the bath even if I don’t see you naked beforehand. Which I must, because I’m not allowed to leave, not even to get you that robe you want.”

“Oh. Goody.”

Loki pulled off a boot but lost his volition and sat there with one boot off and one boot on.

“I assure you, I am a consummate professional,” Angrboda said, sounding slightly miffed now. “I will behave in every way as though you were completely clothed at all times.”

“Your behavior doesn’t worry me,” he said, but didn’t seem inclined to proceed with the process of disrobing.

She knelt down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. She tried to meet his downcast gaze with her own. “Then what seems to be the problem, eh?” she said. “Talk to me – it’s what I’m here for, after all.”

It was hard to do. But for Judah, he had to try.

“I have scars,” he said.

“Every god here has scars,” she said. “They’re the marks of honorable combat.”

“Their scars may be. Mine are… different.”

“And you really don’t want me to see?”

He shook his head. “I… don’t want to see.”

“You don’t want to see?”

He shook his head again, more vigorously. “I try to remain as clothed as possible. When I have to be undressed, I either keep my eyes closed or use illusion so that I don’t have to see myself. I cannot stand the sight of myself.”

She cast her own eyes down for a moment and let out a loud breath. “Well, that’s a poser. Something like that needs to be worked out, but it will take time, which we don’t have much of, and may better be left to a healer with more experience in psychological issues, like Sigyn. For now, perhaps, just… keep your eyes closed. Most gods nap in the bath anyway – that’s part of the reason I’ll be there to watch you, to make sure you don’t slip under water and drown. After you’re a bit more relaxed and settled… that’s when we can start working on issues like that.”

Loki felt a rush of gratitude for her understanding. His prior experience of healers hadn’t led him to expect it. He pulled off his other boot and started unbuckling his armor, keeping his eyes closed. He stood up and shucked it off and she took him by the hand and guided him to a tub where he stepped into hot salt water. He went through this “detoxification” process once before, a thousand years ago, when some of his wounds were still fresh and open, and the salt water had hurt like Helheim, which hadn’t been any kind of concern to his healers at the time because “it was beneficial,” but now his flesh was healed and it felt much better.

“Ease into it,” she said. “It’s probably going to be pretty hot at first. And we changed the design of the tubs a few years ago – long after your last visit to us. When you lay down you’re going to feel a little confined. It’s just to help keep your head out of the water if you fall asleep. Most of us healers are goddesses, you know – we’re really not strong enough, most of us, to pull a sleeping god out of the water if he starts to sink.”

“Most of the goddesses I know are strong enough to haul a ship out of the water and onto dry land,” Loki said, half-seriously.

She tittered again. “Well anyway, it’s there for our peace of mind as much as yours.”

“It” proved to be a shallow concavity in the shape of a head, with a sort of pillory at the neck to keep one secured. It was slightly heinous, but not dreadfully uncomfortable. Loki decided not to fight it.

“There you go, feels good, doesn’t it?” Angrboda said. “When is the last time you did something just to relax? I bet it’s been a long, long time.”

Ordinarily, when in a bath, anyone would lie on their back and think nothing of it. Forced to do so, Loki had the strong desire to lay on his side. Either side. Being unable to turn to either side was maddening. The size of the tub, too, was confining. It slanted down from the head at a comfortable angle to become reasonably deep, but it was quite narrow – his shoulders brushed the sides, and a god the size of Thor would be quite squashed.

“You’re tensing up. That’s not a normal reaction to one of our baths,” Angrboda said.

“I… don’t have the best association with restraints.”

“Oh… yes, your… chart made mention of some of your prior outstanding issues. I can’t do anything about the head brace, but… would you like me to stroke your hair? I often find it helps calm the more nervous ones down.”

“Thank you, but I… don’t have the best association to goddesses being familiar toward me while I’m in restraints, either.”

“Is that… something you feel you need to talk about?” she said.

“Not at all. But if I don’t, I suppose I wouldn’t be giving this ‘treatment’ the fair chance I promised to give.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now, but this can be as much a part of the detoxification process as the physical purification. While the waters draw the pain and poison out of your body, talking can draw the pain and poison out of your mind.”

“Yes, I suppose,” he said, without much interest. “Well, where do I begin, then?”

“Why don’t you tell me… about the traitor?” Angrboda said.

He paused. “There is considerable information in my chart, it seems,” he said at last.

“I… may have been piqued enough to take a look at your prior file,” she confessed. “I wasn’t employed here last time you were a patient. Sigyn may have been.”

“Who is this Sigyn you keep referencing?”

“The other healer assigned to you for your time here. She’s more qualified than I am.” She sounded a little sulky as she said it, as though she didn’t think Sigyn quite deserved to be considered more qualified.

“Well if she was employed here, I don’t believe I encountered her. Although I admit, I was not in possession of all my faculties at the time. Even a name like Sigyn might have passed me by unheeded. Indeed, even the name Angrboda might not have elicited much response from me back then.”

“If you’d met her, you’d remember her,” Sigyn said, and now she sounded more than a little sulky. “She’s from a lesser Vanir noble house, and has flaming red hair. She stands out a rainbow mile here in Asgard.”

“I know the feeling,” Loki said. “Asgardians tend to be rather cruel to those who do not fit the blond-haired blue-eyed standard. I suppose she finds it hard to get along here.”

“She might, but not as much as she could,” Angrboda said, a cryptic statement to be true, and she still sounded sulky. “So… are you going to talk?”

“You want to hear about the traitor. Is this a prurient interest, or do you think it would be a clinical benefit?”

“I’ve heard enough of other gods’ pain to know I get nothing out of it,” she said. “It just seemed like a good place to start. You must feel something toward the god who betrayed you. Do you know his name?”

“Gagni Dolvrson,” Loki said, and even he was surprised by the amount of hatred dripping off his voice. “A low-rank Battlemage of no distinction. I honestly don’t think I could tell you what he looked like, and we were only a squad of twelve. Of course, he looked like any other Asgardian – blond, blue-eyed, thick as a stone. And nothing to distinguish him in battle, either. I haven’t the foggiest idea how he ever managed to pass through the rigors of the Battlemage program, but then, he didn’t attend the same school I did. Other schools may well have… lesser standards.”

“So… dead weight to your squad. Did you resent him even before he turned on you?” Angrboda prodded.

“No. We weren’t like that. The squad was a family, we banded together and aided each other. We all knew what it was like, being a Battlemage. The training is torture and it’s the most needed and least respected position. He turned on us for the basest of reasons – the enemy offered him more gold than he’d ever seen in the whole of his worthless life.”

Angrboda moved – he could hear her robes shifting. “That’s odd,” she said. “The temperature of the water just rose considerably. I hope the heating mechanism is all right. Are you too hot? Do I need to get you out of there?”

Loki forced himself to calm down. “I’m… fine. It’s not the mechanism, it’s me. I get… hot… when I lose control of my emotions.”

“Ah. Yes – your chart has you noted as the god of fire, but I didn’t really pay attention to it. I had only ever heard you spoken of as the god of mischief. I take it those powers are hard to control.”

“They’re all hard to control. The god of fire thing is the only thing that might destroy the realm, however.”

“I can see how fire would be hard to control, especially if it is tied to emotion – how is mischief hard to control?”

“You totally slough off the whole ‘destroy the realm’ thing, eh? Fine. Mischief gets away from me because it happens whether I actively try to make it happen or not. Sometimes. It’s like an aura I have – sometimes I make other people act in a way they would not normally, other times things happen to me or around me that really shouldn’t happen under ordinary circumstances. Most of it doesn’t happen any too frequently, thank the ancestors, and most gods and goddesses have learned not to do the things that always create mischief around me.”

“Oo, sounds like fun.”

“Most gods find it annoying.”

“Most gods have sticks shoved so far up their rears they’d need to go prospecting to ever find them again,” she said. “But back to therapy: the enemy gave him gold, and he gave them what in exchange?”

“Information. Specifically, information on the whereabouts and movements of our squad. The enemy was very keen to destroy Battlemage squads, because without us, the Warriors just go pelting headlong into enemy lines and basically get slaughtered. We provid cover fire, shielding, illusion – everything the Warriors need to stay alive while slaying thousands. He told them exactly where we’d be, how many we were, and what sort of security measures we had in place regarding watch shifts, so they’d be able to take us with the least possible resistance.”

“Where were you when the attack happened?” she asked.

“It was nighttime – I was bunked, asleep. Most of us were. I was Squad Captain, so I had my own small tent. Everyone else bunked in one big tent. Two gods were on watch – Jongrir Kinrison and Dolvrson. Dolvrson took out Kinrison before the enemy even approached, so a warning was never sounded. They hit the big tent and took every mage prisoner while they were still bleary-eyed. I woke up when I heard the commotion and came to investigate – I found them all bound with blades at their throats. The enemy demanded my immediate surrender or they would slay my comrades. I surrendered. They bound and gagged me, then slew my comrades anyway. My only comfort is that they slew Dolvrson as well. He was a fool to trust that they would keep their word to pay him what they promised.”

“Why didn’t they kill you as well?” Angrboda said.

“At first, I believe because Dolvrson had told them that I was a son of Odin,” Loki said. “They thought to make a profit off my capture by holding me for ransom, possibly using me for political leverage against Father. They didn’t realize at the time that Father doesn’t negotiate with those who use terrorist tactics. For any reason.”

“A surprise attack is not a terrorist tactic. Nor, unless I am mistaken, is taking a prisoner – what terrorist tactic did His Majesty object to?”

“They made it a terrorist situation when they made holospheres of themselves torturing me, and sent them to Father to try and prompt him to swift action.”

“Torture. That… is where the scars came from, then?”

“Yes.”

“And that is why you don’t like restraints.”

“Yes.”

“How long were you in that place?”

“Almost a year.”

“How did you get out?”

“My brother got tired of waiting for Father to take action and came for me himself.”

“A year. You weren’t on Asgard – did you measure that year in our terms?”

“Yes.”

“Well, under ordinary circumstances it might not have seemed like much time, but in those circumstances it must have seemed to you at least as long as it would have seemed to a mortal.”

“Yes, it felt like a very long time. I did not see the sun, so I had no idea how much time passed until I came home. It might have been centuries, for all I knew.”

“How did you feel, all that time – did you know someone would come for you, did you hope for it, or did you lose that hope?”

“I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Did you have hope?”

“I knew Odin wouldn’t come for me.”

“What about Prince Thor? He came for you in the end. Did you know that would happen?”

Loki sighed. “There was… a certain inevitability to it.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“Thor is the last person in the realm I wanted to have see me in such a vulnerable position.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’ve always been his lesser.”

“But isn’t your freedom – your life – more valuable than a childhood rivalry?”

“Of course. But I can’t help feeling humiliated. After having spent a year being repeatedly humiliated.”

“Do you think Prince Thor was thinking in terms of how humiliating the situation might have been when he first saw you?”

“No.”

“So you are aware that this is solely in your own mind.”

“Yes. I am aware that ninety-nine percent of our rivalry is in my own mind.”

“Only ninety-nine?” she said, teasingly.

“Let’s just say he’s a typical older sibling and leave it at that.”

“No, let’s not. Expound, please.”

Loki sighed. “All my life, he teased me. Right, typical sibling shit, suck it up. But I got it from everybody, and I mean everybody, so it might have been nice to have a brother who, I don’t know, defended me instead of making it worse. And every time I had a moment where I shone just a little bit, Thor showed up and showed everyone how much better than me he was.”

Angrboda was silent. Loki took a deep breath. “He got better as we got older. I will admit that. Even though he became all the more bullheaded and arrogant, he became a better brother. I don’t want you to think I held all this against him for all the years of our lives like some childish fool. I didn’t. I forgave him long ago for all of it.”

“Then why didn’t you like him to see you vulnerable?” Angrboda said.

“I don’t know. I guess the memory never goes away.”

“And if you forgave him… why did you try to kill him?” Angrboda said. Loki slipped into the tub and was briefly throttled by the pillory until he could readjust himself.

“That’s… a loaded question.”

“How so?”

“Because I don’t exactly know the answer.”

“You don’t know why you tried to kill your own brother?”

“It’s… a long story.”

“The water isn’t going to cool down while you tell it.”

He heaved his deepest sigh yet. “The plan was never to kill Thor. In truth, I didn’t even really want him to be exiled. I knew it would happen, but I trusted that it would be temporary. Father never could stay mad at Thor. The plan was to keep him from taking the throne. He… wasn’t worthy. True, neither was I, but Thor was a disaster waiting to happen. He was crashingly arrogant and couldn’t see past the end of his hammer.”

“So you were trying to… save Asgard? Couldn’t you have done the same by speaking to His Majesty King Odin about the ascension?”

Loki sighed again. “I have… a certain power of persuasion. Father knows this about me, and his tactic of preventing himself from being unduly persuaded is to refuse to listen to me – and typically to refuse to allow me to speak in his presence. My only power in the kingdom is my ability to pull strings behind the scenes.”

“That must be very difficult. So walk me through your plan. What did you do to convince His Majesty that the Heir Apparent was unfit to rule?”

“The usual sort of thing. I disguised myself, crossed a hidden dimensional boundary rift between this realm and Jotunheim, and convinced a small contingent of frost giants to work with me by telling them that I could get them into Odinhall undetected. I could help them wreak revenge against Odin for what they perceive as his ‘atrocities’ during Laufey’s Push.”

Angrboda snorted. _“Odin’s_ atrocities.”

“There’s always two sides to every war,” Loki said.

“Yes, a winner and a loser,” Angrboda said. “Anyway, do go on. Did you manage to get the frost giants into the palace?”

“Of course.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I opened a space-time portal for them directly into the palace vaults. I am a sorcerer, after all. It was the first of only two times I’ve done magic since Thor rescued me. The other time – well, that’s not important.”

“It may be, but we’ll leave that for now. For now, I want to ask why you haven’t done any other magic?”

“Choose one story or the other, my dear: I cannot tell two at once.”

“This is obviously something you left out of the first story.”

He sighed again. “After a time, my captors realized they wouldn’t get their ransom. They decided instead to try and make me summon a demon. I don’t know what they planned to do with me once I had, but they were quite keen to make me do so. I… confess I felt, by the end, close to giving way.”

“And… why does this make you avoid magic now?”

“Because I don’t know why. Because it feels dirty now, I suppose. Or because I don’t feel strong enough for it. I’m not certain.”

“All right, I can see this is something that will take time and effort to resolve, so I’ll make a note of it in your chart –”

“It doesn’t need to be resolved.”

A pause. “Very well. If you say so. Back to the frost giants, then. You let them in; then what happened?”

“Then I let nature take its course. They killed a couple of guards, Father killed them, Father refused to take retaliatory measures against Jotunheim, Thor was predictably incensed. I cautioned him against action because I always did; as usual he did not heed me. He led me and his friends to Jotunheim and slaughtered a whole brigade of frost giants who were guilty only of being insolent in his quest for vengeance before Father came to rescue us from his stupidity. Father was… angrier than I expected him to be, I confess it. Thor never engendered the kind of scathing scorn of which Father was capable. I thought he would punish him because he had to, not because he truly felt it. But I knew, even as he cast him out, that he would give Thor some way to make it up. Because he always did. So I didn’t feel that badly about it, no matter how horrible it was.”

“Innocent people died.”

Loki shuddered. “I know. But so many more could have died if Thor had become King as he was then.”

“You believe that?”

“I do.”

“What do you believe now?”

“I believe he’s grown up. He’s no smarter, but he’s wiser. And not quite so ancestors-damned arrogant. I wouldn’t… stand against him… any longer.”

“You sound doubtful.”

“I’m not doubtful, it’s just damned hard to say. I’m still somewhat cheesed.”

“Cheesed?”

“It’s a mortal expression. I mean I’m angry. That’s why I tried to kill him, I guess. I… I lost my temper.”

“That’s quite a temper tantrum. Care to explain what your brother did that made you so angry with him?”

“My brother did nothing. It was Father.”

“How does your father make you want to kill your brother?”

Loki sighed – again. Heaving sighs was beginning to feel habitual. “You may have heard I was adopted,” he said.

“I only found out recently,” Angrboda said.

“Well, so did I. Moreover, I found out that the reason for my adoption was purely political – I’m the unwanted son of a rival King. Odin hoped my survival would foster peace between Asgard and that nation in the future. It did not happen. Small wonder, then, that I have been nothing but a disappointment to him.”

“I see. When exactly did you find this out?”

“When my brother took us to Jotunheim. I… discovered I was not quite as I had thought myself to be. I confronted Odin, and he admitted the truth. During the confrontation, he lapsed into the Odinsleep, which he’d been putting off for too long. Mother was afraid he’d pushed himself too far – that he would never awaken.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Powerless. I wanted to hurt him, kill him, force him to love me. Seeing him asleep and there being nothing I could do about it drove me mad… I fear literally. I don’t think it would serve me as a legal defense, but I certainly wasn’t totally sane when I set out to deprive him of what he loved the most.”

“Thor.”

He nodded, as best as he could within the head brace and pillory. “I love my brother, I do. Even during that mad time I loved him. But I wasn’t thinking with my heart or any logical portion of my mind. All I could see was how angry I was and how good it would feel to be rid of Odin’s Golden Favorite forever and never have to compete with that again.”

“Your relationship with Prince Thor is highly competitive.”

“It’s not entirely my fault – Odin made everything a competition between us from my earliest memories. And I never won. Not once. Of course, none of the competitions were academic.”

“The one area where you outcompeted your brother.”

“From the outset.”

“How much older than you is Prince Thor?” Angrboda asked.

“Two hundred and twenty-three years.”

“That’s… a big gap, when one speaks of holding competitions between children. He was already in school by the time of your birth. How did His Majesty expect you to hold your own against him?”

“I don’t believe he did.”

“Then what was the purpose of these competitions?”

“I do not know. To beat me into submission, perhaps? There is much about Odin that I will never understand.”

“So you feel that your father never truly loved you. Is that about right?”

“I don’t know what I think any longer. He definitely wasn’t good at showing it where I was concerned. Let’s put it that way.”

“And you spent your childhood seeking out that love and never receiving it.”

Another sigh. “Pretty much.”

“He let you off on the treason and attempted fratricide charges. Why do you think he did that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Possibly because of Mother. She always loved me. Of course, she’s the goddess of motherhood. If Odin had dragged home a rotting skunk carcass and told her it was to be her son, she would have loved it.”

“Don’t you think you’re being rather hard on yourself – and her? Perhaps she’s not your biological parent, but she is, in fact, your mother.”

“That’s what everyone tells me.”

“You don’t think it’s true?”

“After what I’ve done, I don’t think I’m worthy of a mother.”

He heard Angrboda set something down, probably his chart. “Everyone has a mother, whether she is in their life or not. Even the worst offender in the most high-security prison has a mother. What makes you so special that you shouldn’t have a mother?”

“I don’t have a mother. She’s a faceless, nameless wench in my biological father’s harem. I wager she never thought about me once after I was born.”

“So your lack of relationship with your birth parents has to destroy the relationship you have with your adoptive parents?”

“Is this bath almost over?”

“Is your skin pruning? Keep talking.”

Another sigh. “I know that it is foolish and immature of me to break my relationship with my family because I’m upset about not having known I was adopted. The pain of having been lied to all my life is just still… raw.”

“That’s what hurts the most? The fact that they lied?”

“My entire life was a lie.”

“How do you figure? Just by dint of being adopted?”

“I cannot explain. It would be dangerous.”

“I won’t put it in your chart.”

“No.”

“Then do you mind if I make an educated guess at your situation? I promise it will not leave this room with me. You are the son of King Laufey of Jotunheim.”

He slipped in the tub again and was momentarily throttled. “How did you – how did you come to that conclusion?”

“We’re in the same boat, you and I,” she said. “The truth of the matter is, you don’t know at all who your biological mother was, do you? Well, I quite expect she was very much like mine – a Vanir goddess captured during Laufey’s Push, which went far into Vanaheim before Odin pushed him back to Jotunheim.”

“You… you’re saying you’re…”

“Half frost giant. I spent most of my childhood in Jotunheim, in terror of my father, one of Laufey’s generals. My mother and I managed to escape eventually, but it wasn’t easy.”

“I didn’t even think that kind of combination was possible.”

“You thought you were all frost giant? Doesn’t that make your appearance kind of… unusual?”

“I, er… turn blue when I get super cold.”

“Yes, but you’re a shapeshifter, yes?”

“Uh… yes.”

“Then it would seem totally natural for you to have two natural forms, both a Vanir and a frost giant. What I don’t understand is why Laufey would not want a god for a son.”

“He… probably did not know,” Loki said heavily. “I was born shortly before Odin attacked the palace of Utgard itself. He said he found me abandoned in the palace, a very small, squalling newborn frost giant. When I laid eyes on him, I changed shape.”

“So you were actually born with power. That’s rather rare, isn’t it? Godly powers usually only onset around puberty.”

“Some of mine did. Others of mine I’ve had all my life.”

“You have an unusual number of powers for a god. Most only have one major and perhaps one or two minors, if they have a major power at all. You have quite a number of fairly major powers.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Well, you seem to be bucking a fairly heavy-duty inferiority complex and feelings of powerlessness, which is strange considering you’re really incredibly powerful.”

“I’m less powerful than my brother.”

“Prince Thor.”

“Yes.”

“Whose powers consist of a magic hammer, godly strength – which you yourself also possess – and a limited ability to manipulate the weather, predominately lightning?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t think all your powers – godly strength, illusion, mischief, persuasion, physical decoys, reading minds, and fire – make you a trifle more formidable?”

“Thor is stronger than I am.”

“Physically?”

“Yes.”

“So he can dead lift how much?”

“Sixty tons.”

“And you can dead lift how much?”

“Fifty.”

“You do know that the average for a god is only about eight tons, right? And you’re crying about being ten tons weaker than your brother when you’re forty-two tons stronger than everyone else.”

“All right, I get it, I’m an asshole.”

“As long as you’re aware. Self-awareness is always a good thing.”

“Is it time for me to turn over yet?”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve been basted and broiled for hours now, surely it’s time to turn me. You don’t want me to cook unevenly.”

“It hasn’t even been an hour. You’re really anxious to get out of that tub, aren’t you? All right, we’ve opened up a nice dialogue considering your stay doesn’t even ‘officially’ begin until tomorrow. I’ll let you off the hook for now. Do you think you can continue with the detoxification process or would you rather I left you alone for the night?”

“I’d… rather just go to bed.”

“I sort of figured. All right, let’s get you out of there.”


	30. ...................

Angrboda gave him pajamas that were considerably more revealing than the demure tunic and trousers that he typically wore: indeed, they were just a pair of shorts.

“Is this really all there is?” he said.

“That’s standard god’s sleepwear here,” Angrboda said.

“Then can I sleep in what I brought with me?”

“No.”

He chanced to partly open one eye. “And why not?”

“Because you have a problem with your body. You need to try and get over that. While you sleep, sheets and blankets will be drawn over you – you won’t be able to see yourself. Why should it matter to you what you’re wearing?”

“I don’t typically sleep under a blanket.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“It’s too hot.”

She paused. “I understand. I live in similar circumstances. I thought it was because I had lived in Jotunheim for so long. Vanaheim tends to be colder than Asgard, too.”

“I was happier in New York, at least some of the time,” Loki said. “Sometimes it was gods-awful hot, but sometimes it was lovely.”

“I’ve heard Midgard can be extreme.”

“They call it ‘seasons.’ They only happen in certain parts of the realm. Some places are always hot, some places are always cold. Everywhere else, they have ‘seasons.’”

“Could you sleep under covers during the cold season on Midgard?”

“No. Not unless Judah popped into bed with me. That happens once in awhile, when he has bad dreams or anxieties.”

A long pause. “Who is Judah?” she said at last.

“My son.”

A longer pause. “You have a son?”

“Yes. He’s… nine. In Midgardian years. That’s roughly sixty-eight in Asgardian years. That’s why I’m here. To make him immortal, I bargained with Father to give him the epli and an immortal life.”

“He is… mortal?”

“Yes. An orphan of the siege on New York. My fault. I took him in, adopted him.”

“You are… attached to the child?”

“He’s my son.”

“The trouble in Midgard was not so long ago.”

“Why does everyone try and reduce our relationship to a matter of time spent? He is mine. I love him.”

“Oo, okay, all right, get dressed and go to bed. The bottom sheet is very thin, the material is designed to be cooling. I don’t think you’ll find yourself much warmer with that pulled over yourself tonight than if you were dressed in full-body pajamas.”

“Very well then,” Loki said, and hastily pulled on the shorts and climbed into the bed. He lay down and pulled the bottom sheet over himself, all the way to his chin. It was a wrong feeling, skin touching skin where his arms touched his sides or his legs came together, but he supposed he could deal with it for the four nights he would be here.

It was also a wrong feeling, having someone watching him while he lay in bed. Angrboda did not sit close, but she was there, and he knew it, and it made it hard to relax – not that he was one given to relaxing. He had much on his mind. How was Judah getting by on his first night in Asgard? Was he getting along with… everybody? Was he sleeping? Was he thinking about his real parents? Was he in tears? Who put the bomp in the bomp a bomp a bomp? Who wrote the book of love?

“You’re still awake,” Angrboda said, after several long hours.

“Yes I am.”

“Any good reason for that? The strange environs? The transition from Midgard to Asgard time?”

“No. It’s a fairly standard occurrence.”

“You look like you’re doing some heavy thinking.”

“I can never shut off my mind. It runs in strange channels and goes where it wills.”

“Racing thoughts?”

“I’m not certain what that means.”

“A cacophony of disjointed thoughts that run swiftly through your mind over which you have little to no control.”

“Oh. Yes. I would call them racing thoughts. A lot of them make sense for whatever I’m going through, but a lot of them are just totally random. Does that mean I’m crazy?”

“We don’t use that word here. But yes, it probably means you’re crazy.”

“Good to know.”

“I’m kidding. There are lots of reasons for racing thoughts. Psychopathy, or ‘craziness,’ is not the only one. And while I am not deigned experienced enough to give a diagnosis even if I had been in session with you long enough to make one, nothing you have said to me suggests you are a psychopath – although you may have suffered a psychotic break. Believe it or not, that is a possibility even for those of us who are not psychopaths. Other underlying mental and emotional issues can push us to that condition when stress gets involved.”

“I’m not certain I understand the difference between being psycho and having a psychotic break.”

“People who are psychotic are that way all the time – they cannot help themselves, and they basically cannot ‘come out of it,’ although treatment may be possible. A psychotic break is, by nature, a temporary condition, though the length of that time period is hard to determine.”

“How would one know they were having a psychotic break?” Loki asked.

“They wouldn’t. Most people would be completely unaware they were ill. Some might be aware that they were acting out, but would think, ‘Well, they deserve this for the way they’ve treated me,’ or things of that nature. They would be completely detached from any and all feelings and values they have under ordinary circumstances.”

“So how does one know they’ve gotten better?”

She tittered. “The break often creates a sort of fugue state, or at the very least a sense of unreality. Sometimes a sense of hyper-reality. Oftentimes a state of increased paranoia. Are you experiencing any of these things now?”

“I’m always a trifle paranoid, but… no more than usual right now. It really rather sounds like you can’t really define a psychotic break because there’s no one prominent reaction.”

“It’s true: when speaking of any broad-term mental condition, it is difficult to give a standard definition because of the variance between individuals. But they are easy enough to diagnose when they are witnessed.”

“There’s no way to mix it up with another condition.”

“It can be mistaken for true psychosis, or lead a healer to believe you have a more serious mental condition than you actually have, but it would be virtually impossible to mistake a psychotic break or episode for anything less than what it is – unless, of course, the psychotic reaction is a catatonic state. That could be a physical ailment masquerading as a psychological problem.”

“So in other words, it’s very possible, because ‘psychotic’ is such a broad term.”

“It is not a broad term. It is a very specific condition. However, like most psychological conditions, it is not perfectly understood, even here in Asgard, mostly because it is very rare here in Asgard. Psychotic breaks happen now and then, but true psychosis is an historical matter in our case files, not something we have dealt with in modern memory.”

“Is that because it doesn’t happen, or because most Asgardians don’t seek treatment?” Loki said. “Only the most traumatized of post-battle soldiers come to these places.”

“It is true, Asgardians place a certain heavy value on self-care,” Angrboda said. “Many mental and emotional problems may fall through the cracks, and probably explain the heavy alcohol dependency of this realm. But psychotics have a way of standing out. Our prisons would be full of them, if they were born here. Instead, they are full of raucous outlanders.”

“Like you and me,” Loki said.

“Like you,” Angrboda said. _“I’m_ not raucous. I just like a good time.”

“I think my sister may have been psychotic.”

“You have a sister?”

“Adoptive sister. Odin’s oldest. She was goddess of death. Crazy as a narjbilchr.”

“You speak of her in the past-tense. She’s deceased?”

“I killed her.”

A long pause. “Do you have a pathological desire to kill your siblings?”

“No, she was incarcerated in Helheim. Keeping her there was literally killing Father. When he died, she would have been free. Her release would have spelled the deaths of thousands, and the only way to stop her would have been to deliberately bring about Ragnarok. I had to do it, and for once I did it with Father’s full cooperation.”

“Oh. Well, then it was a good thing.”

“She burned to death in my arms. If things had been a bit different, I would have called her ‘Sister.’”

“It sounds as though things would have had to have been more than just a ‘bit’ different.”

“I’m left wondering if she was the way she was because she was born that way, or because of Odin’s training. Just as I wonder if I am the way I am because I was born a monster or because of the training I received.”

“What exactly is ‘the way you are?’”

“Angry. Out of control.”

“The way we are raised plays a big part in our emotional well-being later in life, but the debate between nature versus nurture rages on all the same because the same experiences do not affect any two people in exactly the same way. Do you feel that your childhood plays a big part in making you a volatile god?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m not in any position to tell you. In three days’ treatment, I doubt Sigyn would be able to tell you, either. But you could try to describe your childhood enough in the next few days that we could give it a shot.”

“I think I’d rather not open that door.”

“If you prefer. We certainly have plenty of trauma to deal with. Whatever you want to talk about, we are here to hear you.”

“Do you have any healer’s tricks for calming racing thoughts?”

“Unfortunately no. They may be the result of anxiety, but if you have them all the time there may be something deeper going on. Of course, your history leads me to think you may have an anxiety disorder. We have medications that can still the mind, but we only prescribe them as a last resort. There are other things we would like to try first, but they won’t work tonight.”

“You can’t expediate the process of getting me through to the last resort?”

“No, I can’t. Medication has unfortunate and at times dangerous side effects. We try therapy first.”

“Do you have the same reservations about medication when someone comes in with a severe physical wound or illness?”

“Depends on the wound or illness. Some things require surgery. Other things require therapy. Sometimes you need to give medication. We treat each illness, injury, or disorder with exactly the treatment it requires, no more, no less. We strive at all times not to do any harm to our patients. An unnecessary surgery, a mis-prescribed medication – these things cause great harm. Even therapy can be harmful if you do it wrong.”

“I see.”

She moved, and a strange sound filled the room, like air rushing through a cavern. “This is white noise. Many gods in your position find it helpful to concentrate on the sound of ambient noise and drown out the thoughts in their minds.”

“It doesn’t drive them bonkers?”

“Less than their thoughts.”

“Good point. Very well, I’ll give it a try.”

He lay silently in the darkness, listening to the tinny sound of air rushing, but all it seemed to do was give him an urge to pee. Sometime just before dawn, Angrboda got up and left the room. Roughly half an hour later, another woman entered and took her place on the chair.

“Hello. You must be the fabled Sigyn,” he said.

“You are supposed to be asleep,” she said, rather severely.

“I don’t sleep much,” he said. “Angrboda tried to get me to sleep by making it sound like a spelunker’s paradise in here, but it didn’t work.”  
“Angrboda is very knowledgeable and intelligent, and also highly inexperienced – a bad combination that makes her think she knows more than she truly does. One day she may become a great healer, but this is not that day. If she had progressed the detoxification process as she should have done, you may have been able to sleep properly.”

“We got a good dialogue started.”

“So I hear. Unfortunately, the detoxification period is not truly the time to begin a dialogue. Detoxification is a time to relax. Talking about what is bothering you rarely causes you to relax. Then, too, she cut your salt bath short, and did not immediately proceed to the next step. She made many mistakes. I’m surprised at her.”

“At my insistence. I find the pillory rather much.”

“Pillory? You mean the brace?”

“Whatever you want to call it, I find it a device of torture.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“As one who has experienced torture firsthand, I can tell you it is disturbingly similar, even if the intent is not the same.”

“Your chart says you weigh five hundred and sixteen pounds. Is that correct?”

“They weighed me when I checked in, so I assume it is.”

“Heavy for such a slender god.”

“I possess godly strength. A certain degree of density tends to come along with it.”

“In any event, I am more than capable of hauling your dense ass out of the water if you should slide sleeping into it. If I leave the brace off, will you take the bath again?”

He didn’t want to.

“Very well,” he said.

“Good. As long as you’re awake, we might as well get started. I will get the water going.”


	31. ...................

“Well, one thing is certain: you will have the best-functioning kidneys in the realm by the time this bath is finished,” Sigyn said. “Good skin, too.”

“I had no complaints about my skin or my kidneys before this,” Loki said, his eyes squinched shut. He had yet to see his morning and afternoon-shift Healer and didn’t particularly care to right now, since once again he was naked and being led to the heated bath.

“You’ll get crow’s feet if you keep your eyes squeezed tight like that,” she said.

“Not for several hundreds of years, most likely.”

“All the damage we do to ourselves in our youth shows up in our aged years.”

“So never squeeze your eyes shut, never furrow your brow in thought, never smile, never frown, never laugh, never cry, never show an ounce of anger – you remind me of my father.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I did not say never to show emotion. I just say you are being rather silly to squeeze your eyes shut on the way from the bed to the bathtub.”

“Tell a mental patient they’re being silly. That’s a terrific bedside manner you’ve got.”

“My apologies. I am a good healer. I have simply never treated a criminal before.”

“Ah. So the truth is, you are not of the same forgiving nature as Angrboda.”

“Angrboda is naïve.”

“Angrboda has been through a lot in her life, things you couldn’t possibly imagine. I doubt she’s truly ‘naïve.’”

“In the few hours you spent together you learned everything about her – _and_ me.”

“I learned enough.”

“Get in the tub.”

He got in, but he wasn’t entirely certain he should – this bitch was more likely to drown him than pull him out if he fell asleep, not that he saw that happening. He lay back and tried to relax as much as possible but his whole body jerked when her hands touched his temples.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he said. His eyes landed on her for the first time. She was a tall goddess and, unlike Angrboda, the plain white healer’s robes did not render her formless – she seemed to have a shape any goddess would kill to possess. A lovely face, too, or it would be if it were not set in such a stern expression, with full lips, alabaster skin, a slightly heavier than light smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and bright green – _green!_ – eyes. But her true glory was her hair, a great curly halo of flaming red. Despite his irritation with her, Loki felt a sudden strong desire to bury his face and fingers in it, to know what it felt like and how it smelled. He carefully kept these feelings out of his expression. Fortunately, they didn’t show up anywhere else, either.

“You are holding a great deal of tension, and appear to be building to a tension headache, if you do not already have one,” she said, sounding rather haughty. “It is my duty as a healer to prevent or relieve this.”

“Oh, now why would I have a tension headache?” he said. “My healer wants my head on a platter.”

“I do not believe in such brutality,” she said, and now the haughtiness was profound. “But power and money should not provide an escape for justice.”

“You don’t believe in harsh punishment, but you believe in life in prison. You don’t believe in rehabilitation?”

“In some cases, I believe rehabilitation is possible.”

“But not in mine. You know so much about me and what I’ve done that you’ve decided that I’m completely incorrigible.”

“I never said –”

“You also think you know more than the King of our realm, who knows well what I’ve done, and decided that what I needed was not prison time but treatment at a mental institution.”

“Now, I certainly never said I knew better than His Majesty –”

“Didn’t you? You clearly don’t like his decision.”

She took a deep breath. “Perhaps I did not consider the full ramifications of my opinion. I will reconsider.”

He lay back again and closed his eyes once more. She touched his temples again.

“Please don’t,” he said.

“It’s my job,” she said.

“I don’t like to be touched,” he said.

“The next step after this is a massage, so that’s going to be challenged. You might as well start getting used to it now.”

“What exactly does a massage detoxify?”

“Nothing whatsoever, but it is a wonderful relaxant.”

“Sounds like you want your patients to be limp as cooked spaghetti noodles by the end of the detoxification process.”

“What are spaghetti noodles?”

“A Midgardian food I recently grew quite fond of. Stringy but delicious with a bit of sauce poured over them. Midgardians are fond of noodles, they have many dozens of different types of them, and quite possibly hundreds of different dishes made of them.”

“Really? I always thought noodles were just… noodles.”

“In Asgard they are, but they are so much more in Midgard. I think their shortened lives give them a heightened creativity. We should share more with them. We would gain from it.”

“Isn’t that your brother’s stance on the matter?”

“It is,” Loki said hesitantly. “I didn’t think the same way until I lived among them for a short time. They’re not as backward and savage as I had been led to believe. Granted, their culture is rather uncivilized and their technology is lightyears behind, but their minds are sharp.”

“You think them uncivilized?”

“Asgard is not the beacon of civility it thinks it is,” Loki said. “But yes, they are a trifle savage. And damned proud of it, many of them. I can respect them for that.”

She said nothing to this, so he settled in and tried to relax. It would not seem to be difficult to relax in a hot bath, but as previously stated, he was not designed to relax. His body was, at all times, like a live wire. Eventually, she was moved to comment on the situation.

“You’re still extremely tense.”

“I suspect I was born that way.”

“A hot bath in soothing salts isn’t enough to ease your tension?”

“I have no explanation.”

“Well, keep soaking. Angrboda mentioned racing thoughts. I’ll turn on the ambient noise function – perhaps it will help you clear your mind.”

“Who put the bomp in the bomp a bomp a bomp? Who put the ram in the ram a lam a ding dong? Who put the bomp in the bomp a bomp a bomp? Who put the shoe in the boogity boogity shoe?”

“What?”

“Just one of those thoughts.”

“Are they all that incoherent?”

“Actually, that’s a song that is popular – or maybe [i]was[/i] popular, they gain and lose popularity so swiftly I can’t keep up – on Midgard. It’s been stuck in my head ever since I first heard it, some time before I actually moved there. I took an interest in Midgardian music some time ago. As I said, they are a creative people.”

“What does it mean?”

“The songwriter is giving thanks to whoever invented the song style that the music is written in, because his lady love enjoys it and transfers what she feels when she hears it to him. He wishes he could thank him personally.”

“So there is a meaning to it.”

“Amazingly, yes.”

“It’s still ridiculous.”

“Without question. But I love it for that reason. Asgardian music is all history and warfare and pomp and circumstance. It would be heresy to sing a song just for the fun of it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You’re not a member of the Royal Family. If I wanted to sing a song for the fun of it, it would be heresy.”

“Is that what you want to do with your life? Sing?”

“What I want to do with my life is moot. I’m a prince, I have no choice in the matter.”

“You’re not the Heir.”

“I still have to live my life in a golden cage. If I want to listen to music I have to go listen to that tired old Court Musician of Father’s, Bragi. If it’s found out that I’m listening to anything the Crown dubs ‘inappropriate’ I’ll be in disgrace.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“You think I [i]enjoy[/i] being a disgrace to my family? Do you think I [i]try[/i] to be a disgrace?”

“You’ve done a damned good job of it.”

“You’re being mean to a member of the Royal Family.”

“A [i]lesser[/i] member of the Royal Family.”

“Should a healer really be mean to anyone?”

A pause. “No. They shouldn’t. My apologies.”

She said nothing more, he heard her moving, and in a moment the sound of air rushing through a cavern filled the room again. He heard her come and sit down beside him once more.

“Clearly, I need to relax as much as you do,” she said, “so I recommend we both sit in silence for a time.”

“A time” stretched into several hours as he was more than amenable not to talk to her for the remainder of the bath. Finally, she stood and told him that the bath was over. She helped him out of the tub and handed him a towel.

“You can tie that around your waist if you wish to be covered,” she said. “It’s time for your massage.”

“Oh goody.”

“Try to relax. Most patients quite enjoy this.”

“I am not most patients.”

“I am well aware of that.”

He dried himself, then wrapped the towel around his narrow waist, all without opening his eyes.

“Can you really get around so well with your eyes closed all the time?” she asked.

“No. I don’t normally go this long with them closed. A quick shower and then into my nightclothes.”

“Well, you’re doing admirably. If you ever go blind, you’ll probably have less adjustment to make than the average god.”

“Good to know.”

“Angrboda said you keep your eyes closed because of a dislike of your scars.”

“True.”

“After a thousand years, you still can’t accept them as a part of your reality?”

“I know they’re there and they always will be. I just don’t want to look at them. They make me think about things I don’t want to think about.”

She patted something that sounded cushiony. “Hop up on the table and lay face down.”

He peeked through one half-open lid, then positioned himself on the massage table. “I do this under protest.”

“However you want to do it,” she said. “As long as it’s done.”

He tried to put his arms under his head but she made him lay them down by his sides. “You cannot relax completely unless there is no tension in your muscles. This is the position of least muscular tension,” she said.

“I feel like a landed trout,” he said.

“I won’t mention what you smell like, then.”

“I don’t smell. I am a very clean person.”

“Not according to the state of your hair.”

“My hair curls if I don’t grease it.”

“And what is wrong with curly hair?” she demanded.

“Nothing – on a goddess.”

“How much curl are we talking about?”

“It goes beyond fluff to the realm of _fleuff.”_

“To the realm of what?”

_“Fleuff.”_

“And what, pray tell, is _fleuff?”_

“Have you ever seen a pet that was so furry you just wanted to pick it up and cuddle it until you died of a severe overindulgence of adorability? That’s _fleuff.”_

“Can’t you wear your hair short? I know it’s not typical among gods, but it would seem to solve the problem.”

“I wore my hair short as a child. I still had to grease it to keep the _fleuff_ down. As an adult I have no interest in short hair as the only god I know who wears his hair that way – willingly – is my brother’s friend Fandral, a latent homosexual who hides his feelings behind rampant womanizing.”

She was silent, so he said no more, and the massage proceeded. He didn’t like to be touched, so it wasn’t particularly effective, but it didn’t feel that bad – she had good hands. After a bit, however, she moved away momentarily and when she came back, she stuck something in his ear.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Taking your temperature,” she said. “You did come out of a hot bath, but by now you should be cooled off considerably. You feel as though you may be running a fever.”

“I’m the god of fire,” he said.

“Angrboda marked down that those powers seem to be emotionally driven.”

“They were bound for most of my life. I don’t fully understand how they work.”

She pulled the thermometer out of his ear. “Hmm… your temperature reads somewhat lower than it should. That’s… unexpected.”

“Isn’t that a type of fever in itself?” Loki said.

“It would be if it were enough to worry about, but it’s not. I fully expected you to be in crisis.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m supposed to have a much lower body temperature than the average god.”

“Why would that be?”

“Because I’m not the average god.”

“Do you feel sick? Woozy? Light-headed? Dizzy? Exhausted?”

“No.”

“Then chances are you’re fine. They checked your temperature last time you were here, I see – got a similar reading, slightly lower than average. I wish they’d made a notation of why they decided to check. It’s not standard operating procedure to check temperatures of patients, we don’t typically have to treat illnesses here. I’ll track down the healer who made the check and ask them if they remember.”

“Why go to the trouble if I’m fine?” Loki said.

“Thoroughness is the number one characteristic of a good healer. If you have a history of hot skin and low body temperature, we can make a note of that so that future healers aren’t taken by surprise as I was.”

“I would imagine I could still take a healer by surprise,” Loki said.

She returned to the massage, and after about an hour of rubbing and prodding pronounced him a hard nut to crack.

“Next step: hot oil.”

“You know, my former captors used hot oil, too.”

“Probably not the same oil, or at the same temperature. Stop being whiny.”

“You are a most _excellent_ counsellor.”

She led him back to the tub. This time, a strong aroma of jasmine and sandalwood rose from it.

“Climb in there,” she said. He did so, and found that the oil was nowhere near as deep as the water had been, but that it still covered most of his body as the angle of the tub had been adjusted so that he was laying further back. Even his face was partly covered, with his mouth, nose, and eyes just above the line of the oil.

“What is the purpose of the oil, then?” he asked.

“This mix of oils has rejuvenation properties. A long enough soak in them could give Ysmir a new lease on life.”

“Going to turn me into a pre-adolescent? I’m already barely an adult.”

“It’s cellular rejuvenation, not an actual return to youth.”

“Ancestors save me from a goddess with no sense of humor.”

“Ordinarily I have a fine sense of humor. I’m feeling a bit off today, is all. I’ve been pulled from legitimate patients to tend to an entitled royal brat who uses our facilities as a means to escape justice.”

“And we’re back to that. It isn’t at all possible that my father ‘legitimately’ feels I would be better off receiving treatment than imprisonment?”

“If he felt that, he would have given you more than three measly days.”

“Three was all he _could_ give me. I have to go back and tend to my son.”

A pause. “There’s no mention of offspring in your file. You’re not even married.”

“He’s adopted. He’s also mortal.”

“And he’s in Asgard right now?”

“Yes.”

“So you really _can’t_ be gone long. The time schedule here must be hard on him. Are you taking him back to Midgard when you go back?”

“No, I’m making him immortal. Father agreed to let him eat the epli. But only _after_ I received treatment.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Why?”

“Talking about things that trouble us is a bad way to relax, but talking about people we love can help us. You do love your son, don’t you?” Sigyn said, more than a touch combatively.

“Yes I do,” Loki said, just as aggressively. “What can I say about him? He’s brilliant, and beautiful – everything one could hope for in a son. I couldn’t have chosen better if I had deliberately set out to adopt a child, which I most certainly did not.”

“You didn’t want him?”

“I wasn’t thinking about bringing a child into my life.”

“What changed that?”

“He… needed me, I guess.”

“And you needed to be needed?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe Angrboda’s half-baked psychological profiling wasn’t as far off as I thought,” she said, as if to herself.

“What was that?” he said.

“This morning, Angrboda declared to me that she had already diagnosed you with a strong inferiority complex compounded by withheld parental affection in youth and possible emotional abuse. We don’t make diagnoses after only a few hours’ treatment, and Angrboda, inexperienced though she may be, should have known that. She also should know better than to leap to assumptions based on minimal dialogue with a patient. Nothing in the transcripts of your dialogue last night speaks definitively of abuse in childhood, though I can see why she might assume there was. Frankly I am of the opinion that the Battlemage program in and of itself constitutes abuse, but unfortunately it does not count as such under Asgardian law.”

“So?”

“So I’m starting to think she had a little more basis for making her all too hasty diagnosis than I thought. Not that she was right to make it. Your desire to care for someone who needs you may speak of withheld affection in youth. _May.”_

“Seeking out from this parent/child relationship what I did not receive from my own.”

“Exactly.”

“Bullshit. My mother is the goddess of [i]motherhood.[/i] I was not deprived of parental affection.”

“From your mother. But fathers play an important role in a child’s development as well. Do you have anything to say about that?”

“I thought detoxification wasn’t the time to talk about such things?”

“It isn’t. Go ahead and soak.”


	32. ...................

There was a great deal of talking over the next two and a half days. Fortunately, Sigyn decided to be less combative with him, and did prove to be a competent if rather stern healer. It was easier to talk to Angrboda, who shared his greatest secret and who did not seem to think of him as a hardened criminal. Just before she left on her last shift, she waved to him where he lay not sleeping and said, “I’ll see you later, sweetpea,” as if she knew something he did not. Later that morning, as he prepared to leave the facility, Sigyn pulled him aside.

“I know you like to work behind the scenes, and fancy yourself something of a master manipulator,” she said, “but you’re not the only one in Asgard. Just thought you should know.”

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“I just mean there’s more below the surface than you may realize. Have a nice flight.”

He wondered what she meant, but he didn’t spend much time pondering. He was thinking too much about getting back to Judah, and the promise of the epli. As the flyer approached the palace, however, he began to think about something else.

A huge crowd of people was gathered outside, shouting and yelling. “What’s going on there?” he asked one of the guards with him, pretty sure he already knew.

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “Your Highness, the people are protesting.”

“Protesting what? Protests are uncommon in Asgard.”

“Protesting Your Highness’s light sentence.”

“Ah. I thought so.” He sighed. “I suppose they’d protest even more if they realized I wasn’t _officially_ sentenced at all.”

“I beg Your Highness’s pardon?”

“Justice in this realm is usually handled by Forseti, yes? When the King handles a case directly, he has to handle it a certain way – before a court, or at least before an impartial witness. There was no one to witness the deal Father struck with me other than Thor and a handful of guards. Thor could hardly be considered impartial in the matter and for whatever reason, guards don’t count in such cases – probably because your salaries are paid by the Crown. From a legal standpoint, it shouldn’t have been done that way. The people will be incensed when they find out.”

“Maybe they won’t find out.”

“They always find out. Someone will talk. A guard will tell his wife, or a drinking buddy, who will tell a friend, who will tell someone else, and pretty soon the whole city will know, and from there it will spread to the entire realm. It’s as inevitable as Asgard itself. Which is why I do not give a flying fuck about it.”

“What if it lands Your Highness in the dungeons?”

“In one part of Midgard there is a most charming expression: _Que sera sera._ It means, ‘what will be will be.’”

The flyer docked at the palace berth, and there was no more talking as the guards escorted him inside. As they entered the throne room, a furry orange bullet shot through the space and climbed him like a tree, causing the guards to lower their spears.

“Easy, boys, it’s just my cat,” Loki said, calming them. He then spoke to Hopwaffle, and the cat gave him a rundown of events over the past three days. The guards shared looks among themselves and raised their spears.

“Wait – what did you say about Odin?” he asked, just as another small figure came pelting into him.

_“Daddy!”_

“Waffles, we’ll talk later. Judah, my boy, how are you? Did you sleep all right? Did everybody treat you well?”

“Yeah, it was okay. I missed you, though.”

“I missed you too.”

“Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

The new voice was Odin’s. Judah cast a mistrustful look over his shoulder at the King of Asgard and looked back at Loki. Loki smiled encouragingly at him and nodded.

“It’s all right, my boy – we’ll have all the time in the world to catch up after my father has his say.”

Judah gave the King one more mistrustful look, then reluctantly exited the throne room. Loki watched him go, then turned to his father. “Yes?”

“The people are unhappy with your sentence.”

“I was outside. I heard.”

“I went about it the wrong way.”

“I know. No court. No impartial witness.”

“They won’t leave this be.”

“No. I expect they won’t.”

“Do you have any suggestions as to what I can do to assuage this situation?”

“Me? You’re asking for my input?”

“You may not believe me, but I do not want to hurt you. Nor do I want to hurt that boy who depends on you.”

“Well, one way or another, you’re going to have to make an official, legal sentence, Father. One the people will accept.”

“The people should accept any judgment I make. The mob is not the arbiter of Asgardian law.”

“Nor is family feeling. Perhaps this is a case that should go before Forseti, Father.”

“Forseti would send you to the dungeons for life, as he would any god accused of treason.”

“As would you, in any other case. Perhaps the people are right in thinking that family feeling has clouded your vision, Father.”

“Do you want to go to the dungeons?”

“No. Nor do I want an angry mob storming the palace and threatening my son.”

“Hmph, a point well taken.” Odin walked to the edge of the dais. “I will think on this. For the time being there is our agreement. You did what you said you would do, so I will do what I said I would do. Your son will get the epli.”

Loki gave a short bow. “Thank you, Father.”

Odin sent for a steward to go and fetch the Queen and Judah and Phil. When they all stood before him he led them into the inner courtyard of the palace, where stood the grand tree Yggdrasil, ancient as all time, with its great sweeping boughs and its deep, spreading roots. It was actually rather an ugly tree, with few leaves that were never green. They were golden, actually, but they were so small and few that it was hard to tell. The big draw of this tree, other than the fact that its roots tied all realms in the cosmos together in a kind of spiritual knot, was the fruit of this tree, which was a large, hard nutlike fruit that, despite Loki’s assertions was in fact a great deal like a coconut in appearance, although what was inside the shell was somewhat different. The official “keeper” of these fruits was a goddess named Idun, wife of Bragi, the Court Minstrel. She didn’t have a great deal to do since the fruit was eternal and never used for anything by anyone. But she sat, day after day, beneath a tree that required no tending, patiently waiting for the day when someone needed her services.

She stood at the King’s approach and curtsied deeply. “Your Majesties,” she said to the royal couple.

“Idun,” Odin said. “My grandson… needs to eat of the epli.”

“Grandson?” The goddess blinked several times in confusion. “Er… why?”

“Because he is mortal.”

She caught sight of Judah for the first time, saw how different he was to any ordinary Asgardian, saw how closely he stood to Prince Loki – who had always been a bit erratic – and seemed to come to some understanding of the situation. She nodded. She reached up and plucked an epli from the lowest branch. She took a spike and a small hammer from a pocket of her skirt and hammered a crack in the hard outer shell. She inserted her thumbnails and pried the shell open. A juicy pink inner fruit was revealed.

Loki leaned down and spoke in Judah’s ear. “I don’t know what it will taste like, but you only have to take one bite.”

Judah nodded, stepped forward, and took a bite of the fruit. He chewed, grimaced, and swallowed. “Tastes like raw chicken,” he said, shaking his head vigorously.

“Why do you know what raw chicken tastes like?” Loki said.

“Curiosity,” Judah said sheepishly.

“Is that why you were throwing up?” Loki said, glowering at the boy.

“That was years ago!” Judah said. “But… given the state of your memory regarding these things, yeah, probably.”

Loki looked at the epli. He cocked an eyebrow. “Tastes like raw chicken, eh? Well, I know someone who would love that.” He reached out and ripped a chunk off the remaining fruit, against Idun’s protests. “Oh quiet, you weren’t saving it for anything,” he said. He tossed the fruit onto the ground and Hopwaffle pounced on it immediately. The cat gobbled it up in an instant.

“Congratulations, my son – you just gave immortality to your cat,” Odin said, putting a hand to his face.

“He deserves it,” Loki said. “Do you know how woefully short Midgardian cats’ lives are? It’s ludicrous.”

“Then get your son a cat from Vanaheim.”

“Now I don’t have to.”

“Let us repair to the palace before good Idun has a coronary,” Odin said, ushering them back the way they came.


	33. ...................

Phil said goodbye to Judah in the palace, because Loki refused to allow him to accompany them to the Observatory past the protestors. “I’ll miss you, kid,” he said, hugging the boy.

“I’ll miss you, too, Uncle Phil,” Judah said.

“Once things settle down, Judah can go with Uncle Thor on visits to see you,” Loki said. “As often as possible. Now that Judah is safely immortal, we may even move back. I haven’t made up my mind.”

“Well you’d probably better do that,” Phil said. “Make up your mind, I mean. Because immortal or not, a kid needs stability. He can’t live thinking he’s going to be uprooted at any moment. You’re not in the Army; you can’t do that to the kid.”

“I know. I just – there’s so much here I want him to know, but it will be hard for him here, even without me being everyone’s favorite traitor, making things harder.”

“Was it any easier in New York? The kid didn’t even officially exist there, and you weren’t any better liked or trusted. Probably less. You were just off the world radar, being a secret part of a semi-secret organization.”

“Being off the radar is nice, though.”

“Do you think the Avengers will last as long as you will? ‘Cause human creations usually don’t last more than a few Earth decades or so. Now that both of you are immortal, neither of you fit in on Earth.”

“Nor do we truly fit in here,” Loki said, gazing at Judah. “I’ve considered moving us to Vanaheim; differences are not so different there. But I have heard it is a dangerous, savage land. They say the same of Midgard, though, so I’m not certain I believe it. Mother was born there. I’ve never spoken to her about it. I should.”

“Maybe you should. What you definitely _shouldn’t_ do is go off half-cocked.”

Loki nodded. “Yes. I will give it plenty of thought.”

Judah waved a sad goodbye as they climbed aboard the flyer and zipped away from the palace, over the heads of the screaming protestors, toward the golden Observatory on the far edge of the city.

“Look at them,” Loki said, peering over the edge of the flyer at the people below. “Who is running their lives while they stand around outside screaming and pumping their fists? Who pays for their food? Who feeds their children? How can they bloody well afford to make a menace of themselves day after day?”

“The right to free speech and freedom of assembly are sacred things,” Phil said.

“True enough, but we have it very good here in Asgard – there is no word in our language to even [i]begin[/i] to convey the concept of ‘poverty’ and Father takes care of the people. Better than he takes care of his family, in a lot of ways. Yet they complain constantly. Rarely do they take it to the point of protest, but any trip to the taverns will find them drinking and complaining.”

“They don’t live in golden palaces,” Phil said.

“They live very comfortably regardless. I’m sure they envy us the lives they imagine we lead, but they have something I have always envied.”

“What’s that?” Phil asked, perplexed.

Loki threw his arms out wide. “Freedom! The freedom to live their lives however they so desire. Even if I had only been born a noble I would have had very little. As a prince, I have none at all. I’m allowed to be a soldier provided I can achieve a nice, high rank in a short time – which I did – but otherwise, I’m not even allowed to hold a bloody job. Any hobbies I may have must stay just that – hobbies, preferably secret. Can’t have it getting out that the King’s son likes to paint or something subversive like that.”

Phil thought about it. Loki was god of mischief, so freedom to be himself probably meant more to him than just about any god. Phil could see how being a prince would be… confining. And over the course of a twelve million year plus lifespan, Phil would be surprised if Loki hadn’t taken up painting at some point, along with a host of other hobbies. He was a pretty good cook, which was a bit of a surprise. Keeping things like that a secret was probably hard to do, especially for a born diva like Loki. He would definitely want to show off any talent he might have or skill he might develop. Maybe he would rather be a private citizen than a prince of the realm. Maybe he would have been better off, all things considered.

Phil watched the Rainbow Mile, as the Asgardians called the long stretch of iridescent street leading to the Rainbow Bridge, pass beneath them at a swift pace. Soon the bridge itself was beneath them, and the smooth waters of the Asgardian Sea, still suffering a severe shortage of fish in the local area. Then, they were at the Observatory itself, round and golden, hanging off the very edge of this strange world.

The guards saw them inside, where Heimdall awaited them ever-patiently.

“Philip Coulson. You must be eager to return to the world you are familiar with after what must feel like so long with us,” he said. “Though I know you regret leaving your friends behind.”

“Err… yes, yes, I am. Eager, that is,” Phil said. Heimdall made him nervous. A man who saw and heard everything would make a great agent, but it would be hard to be friends with him. Apparently he was a god who knew the value of discretion, or the Asgardians wouldn’t place so much trust in him. Even so, it was nerve-wracking.

Thor stood by while he said goodbye to Loki. He offered his hand for a handshake. Loki looked at it for a moment, brow furrowed. “You don’t want to do that,” he said.

“What, shake your hand? Why not?”

“Shake his hand and you’ll find out,” Thor said, sniggering behind his own hand.

“We probably won’t ever see each other again,” Phil said. “It seems appropriate to shake your hand.”

“Well I’m definitely not going to kiss your fingers,” Loki said. He took Phil’s hand in a firm grip. At that instant, a sharp jolt like electricity passed from Loki’s hand through his and up his arm. He jerked away.

“What the hell was that?” he said. Thor laughed outright. Loki sighed.

“It happens every time,” he said. “I can grab someone’s hand, kiss a lady’s fingers, slap five, whatever – but if I shake hands with someone, they get the ‘joy buzzer.’”

“You didn’t do that on purpose?” Phil said.

“Swear to Odin.”

“I didn’t realize that ‘mischief’ was a power you had no control over,” Phil said.

“In most ways, I have full control over it. Unless I’m wrong, and it really has full control over me. It’s just that some things happen whether I want them to or not.”

“You know, growing up, I heard the old stories about the gods… I used to think… it would be great to be a god. It really kind of sucks, doesn’t it?” Phil said.

“I have no other frame of reference from which to draw,” Loki said, “but not being forced to annoy people during common social conventions would be rather nice, I think.”

“It’s a trade-off, I think,” Thor said. “Great power, annoying side-effects.”

_“Phenomenal cosmic power,_ itty-bitty living space,” Phil said. Both gods looked at him blankly.

“It’s… from a Disney movie,” Phil said, his tongue going numb as he realized that he’d already explained the concept of “Disney” to Loki twice and he still didn’t seem to get it.

“Oh. Yes, Disney. That’s with those robots and the guy who make fun of bad films, right?”

“No, that’s _Mystery Science Theater 3000,_ otherwise known as MST3K or _Misty.”_

“Oh yes. I like that. Whatever happened to that?”

“Netflix tried to bring it back, but it didn’t work very well. The original went off the air quite awhile ago. Long before you came to live on Earth, frankly, and you didn’t have Netflix, as far as I know. How do you even know about these things?”

“YouTube,” Loki said.

Phil threw his arms up. “Of course. Here I thought it was something mystical.”

“YouTube _is_ something mystical.”

“You understand how the internet works, right?” Phil said.

 _“You understand how the internet works, right?”_ Loki mocked. “It’s an archaic invention, by our standards. It’s what you find there that make it so… special. A realm of purest nonsense.”

“Asgardians aren’t big on nonsense, by and large, are they?” Phil said.

“No sense of humor at all, most of them,” Loki said, frowning.

“Maybe you are a god who belongs on Earth,” Phil said, trying to be cautious about it.

“The journey to find where we belong can be long and difficult,” Heimdall said. “Often we discover that we belong right where we were when we began. At home.”

“What if home is not where we think it is?” Loki said to the gatekeeper.

“That is why we must make the journey,” Heimdall said. “To find out.”

Loki looked at Phil. “He’s always so helpful,” he said.

“It… makes sense, when you think about it a little,” Phil said. He wasn’t entirely certain of that, but it seemed reasonable, even if he didn’t agree with the concept that most people belonged where they began, if that was what the god had meant. Heimdall himself was on an entirely different planet from where he began – how did he explain that?

“Well, I’ll give it all some thought,” Loki said. “I have plenty to think about.”

Phil stuck his hand out. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” he said. “This time, I won’t jerk away.”

Loki looked at his hand in disbelief. “You know what will happen, yet you want to do it again?”

“Yeah. Hey, who hasn’t been hit with a joy buzzer a time or two? It’s no big deal.”

“You would be the first to say that,” Loki said. He shrugged and gave the agent a handshake. It was a trifle worse than a standard joy buzzer – instead of a noisy vibration, it was an actual shock passing into the body, though painless – but Phil withstood it. It was over swiftly, and Loki looked embarrassed and pleased as their grip broke.

“I expect I’ll never see you again, maybe even if you do ultimately decide to come back to Earth, so… take care of yourself,” Phil said.

“I will. And I shall take good care of Judah. And I will send him back for visits with Thor.”

“Good. I look forward to it. Er… before I go, can I ask you one question? I’ve always kind of wondered about it, never seemed like a good time to ask.”

“Um, all right…”

“Why did you name him Judah? I mean… talk about your Judeo-Christian overtones.”

“Your what?”

“And… this is where you tell me ‘Judah’ is an Asgardian name.”

“Not in Modern Asgard. It goes back to Ancient Asgardian. It means ‘supplanter.’”

“Supplanter? Why did you name him that?”

“His name was James.”

“So?”

“So… it means ‘supplanter.’”

“So you gave him his own name in your language, more or less.”

“Yes, more or less. Ancient Asgardian names are fairly common, even in modern times. My name actually isn’t Loki, that’s just what everyone calls me because it sounds better. My real name is Loptr. It means ‘tangled.’”

“That’s… appropriate.”

“Mother is the goddess of prophecy. She’s the one who named me, I’m told.”

“She clearly saw something of your future.”

“I invented the fishing net.”

“You… you did?”

“Yes, I did. Can you believe no god had come up with a better way to catch fish than one at a time on a line before I came along? How stupid can you get! Of course, fish have never been a big staple of our diet; still, we eat enough of them that you’d think someone would have come up with something long before my birth.”

“Do you know who invented the fishing net on Earth?” Phil asked.

“I did,” Loki said. “We gave nets to humans on one of our visits. I believe the Vikings, at least, were aware of this, and gave me credit for it, although I don’t remember telling them. They didn’t give me credit for much of anything else, although they were considerably more fond of me before they turned to Christianity. I believe that was the last time we ever shared technology with humanity. Odin wouldn’t let us give you anything more advanced than fishing nets. Anyway, for the longest time, Asgardians were convinced that the ‘tangling’ Mother foresaw in my future was the invention of the fishing net. All those knots, and the fish getting tangled up. Guess maybe they were wrong, eh?”

“Loptr, eh?” Phil said. “I can see why you would go by Loki.”

“Yes, it has no direct meaning but it has a much better sound. Actually Loptr itself is derived from the even more ancient Lodr.”

“And it is Loki, right?” Phil said, pronouncing it with an “E” sound at the end. “’Cause I’ve heard it prounounced ‘Lokai.’”

“By humans, who do not know what they are saying,” Loki said. “Asgardians generally do not use an “I” sound in names. In _any_ word, actually.”

Phil nodded. “Lokai sounds so much more evil. I’m just as glad that’s not the way it’s pronounced.”

Loki grinned, his best evil grin. “I’m evil enough for anyone, no matter how my name is pronounced, wouldn’t you agree?”

Phil clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “You’re an odd duck, and definitely have a few screws loose,” he said. “But I don’t think you’re as bad as you like to play yourself up.”

Loki reached up and scratched the back of his head. “Thor, get this guy out of here, will you?” he said. His pale face was an interesting shade of pink.

Thor put his own hand on Phil’s shoulder. “Come, Coulson – let us return you to Midgard.”

Heimdall opened the Bifrost and the light pulled Thor and Coulson into the Void. Loki watched them go, then turned away.

“You might want to stay a moment,” Heimdall said.

“Why?”

“Your brother is returning,” Heimdall said.

“He is? I expected him to stay on Midgard for a time. He does love it there.”

“I believe, with all his family here in Asgard now, there is less to hold him there these days.”

_“I_ wasn’t what held him in Asgard,” Loki said.

“You were the reason he was living there,” Heimdall said.

Loki pondered that. “Me? Not Foster or the Avengers? Me?”

Heimdall shoved the sword back into the mechanism, opening the Bridge once more. “You.”

Thor zooped back into the Observatory, stumbling forward as he regained his feet, and Heimdall closed the bridge. “Brother – you waited for me. I did not think you would,” he said.

“I did not think you would come back,” Loki said. “Heimdall told me you were on the way.”

“Great – we can go back together.”

“On the flyer, Brother – I prefer not to be pulled along by you with your hammer.”

“Oh, very well.”

They joined the guards on the flyer and traveled back to golden Odinhall.

“So… you got what you wanted,” Thor said. “Judah is immortal.”

“Yes,” Loki said, nodding.

“I don’t think Father is any too happy to have given in about it, but I just wanted you to know, I’m glad. I’m glad for you both,” Thor said.

Loki cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I know something else Father wouldn’t be any too happy about, but… if you feel the need, Brother… you have the means.”

He held out his hand. The remains of the epli appeared within it. Thor stared wide-eyed.

“You… _stole…_ the epli? Brother, that’s an act worthy of beheading!”

“Never seemed to bother Mimir any,” Loki said, referencing an advisor of Odin’s who was beheaded in a long ago war with the Vanir. Beheading, for a god, was not necessarily a death sentence, although survival was a difficult proposition.

Thor quickly took the fruit and hid it away in his cloak. “You should not have done this, Brother,” he said.

“But you’re happy that I did, are you not?”

“I… ancestors… yes.”

“Brother, I can’t say I understand what you see in your Miss Foster,” Loki said. “From where I stand, she’s little different from any goddess here in Asgard, just shorter-lived and less attractive. But that doesn’t matter. If you love her, you should be with her, no matter who or what says you shouldn’t.”

“Thank you, Brother. I can never repay you for this.”

“Consider it my apology for trying to kill you. And… for being a jackass.”

“Apology accepted. Does this mean you’re going to stop _being_ a jackass?”

“Probably not,” Loki said easily. “After all, shapeshifter or not, a leopard cannot change its spots, can it?”

“You did,” Thor said. “You were always the sensible one, full of good ideas, trying to rein me in, keep me grounded. Keep me _alive._ You just liked to play a few jokes now and then, is all. You changed. I’d like to see you change back.”

“Maybe I will. It may take time, though.”

“There are hopeful signs, but I’m wary, brother.”

“I know. I put you through a lot. I am trying, though. For Judah… and for my own sake. This anger in me… I don’t know where it all came from, and I don’t know how to get rid of it.”

“I have a pretty good idea that the seeds were mostly planted by those bastards in that bunker. You held it together for a long time, but finding out that the life you knew was untrue… it was just too much to take. What I don’t understand is why you lashed out at me for that.”

Loki shrugged. “Old rivalries. Old jealousies. I was angry at Father, not you. How better to hurt him than by hurting you? The one he loved?”

“Father loves you,” Thor said, squirming.

Loki shook his head. “I wish I could be sure of that, Brother.”

“He let you off on charges of treason and fratricide. He just wants you to seek help.”

“That could be for Mother’s sake.”

Thor nodded. “You have always been her favorite.”

Loki looked at him sharply. “Favorite? You feel Mother showed favoritism toward me?”

Thor spread his hands. “I don’t believe she meant to, no, but you two always shared a bond I could not match.”

Loki ducked his head. “I never even looked at that. I was too busy brooding over the bond between you and Father.”

“I think we can agree, can we not, that you are very like Mother in powers and personality, and I am very much more like Father? Perhaps this is why there would seem to be a greater bond between each of us with one and not the other?” Thor said. “It does not mean there is no love on the other side.”

“Maybe so. Still, it must be hard to love the son of your enemy.”

“You do not bear the weight of your father’s sins.”

The flyer docked, and they entered the palace. They descended the circular stairs to the throne room, where Odin met them at the bottom without his usual bodyguards.

“My son, would you allow us a moment of privacy?” he said, looking at Thor as he took Loki by the arm.

Thor gave Loki a worried look, but nodded and split off, and headed for a nearby door leading to the common areas of the palace. Odin drew Loki toward the center of the grand hall.

“Have you come to some conclusion about what to do about my sentence?” Loki said.

“Not yet,” Odin said.

“Well… will this take long? I promised Judah a proper potions lesson, with beakers and retorts and a simmering cauldron…”

“I promise, I’ll have you out of here in no time. My son, we must talk about the state of succession.”

Loki laughed, uncertainly. “What about it? Thor is your heir. I accept that.”

“Yes, but Thor is currently refusing to marry a proper noble Asgardian goddess. And do not think that just because you hid it from my sight, that I do not know that you facilitated his efforts at being a thorn in my side on this issue.”

Loki smiled nervously. “So… what, then?”

“So one of my heirs must provide for the succession of the throne. If it will not be Thor, it must be you.”

“Are you saying Judah is Thor’s heir now?” Loki said.

Odin shook his head. “No. I am saying you must marry, my boy, and [i]produce[/i] heirs.”

Loki’s jaw dropped. “I-I-I-I-I… Say what now? Father, you’ve never pushed the marriage issue on either of us. You cannot push it now on [i]me.”[/i]

“I never pushed it because I assumed that both of you would eventually settle down with proper goddesses. Now neither of you seem to be trending that way. I will do what I must to secure the throne. Thor may be a lost cause with his mortal love, but you, my boy, have no entanglements. Loki. You know that, at any other point in history, you would have been betrothed to a noble-born goddess before you could speak. Count yourself lucky to have had a bit of freedom of choice.”

“And now it’s gone,” Loki said.

“Not entirely,” Odin said. “I have narrowed down the choices from a short list of good candidates to two. You will make the final decision yourself. But you _must…_ choose one.”

Loki drew himself up tall and swallowed hard. “Who are the… lucky candidates, then?” he said, fairly sure he knew already.

Odin nodded toward the front of the throne room. “Ladies, if you would come forward,” he said.

From the shadows behind the pillars stepped two goddesses, one tall, one short. Loki was completely unsurprised to recognize the both of them. Angrboda, and Sigyn, his healers from the Sanitarium.

“So this, then, was the true plan when you sent me to that place, Father?” he said. “Giving me a little time to get to know the prospects?”

“Giving them time to get to know you,” Odin said. “You do not typically like to let anyone know the real you.”

“And so you had to trick me into telling them my deepest, darkest secrets by pretending they were my healthcare providers,” Loki said.

“No trick: they are healthcare providers,” Odin said. “But they are also from solid noble families that are quite eager to wed their daughters to a prince of Asgard.”

“No shortage of those, I suppose,” Loki said. “Well. Do I have to choose now?”

Odin clapped him on the shoulder. “No, my son. Wine them, dine them, take the opportunity to get to know them in a casual setting,” he said. “Then make your choice. Take your time.”

“But not too much, eh?” Loki said. His face was pale and almost waxy and he sounded breathless. “Can’t keep the throne waiting too long. Excuse me, my son is waiting for his potions lesson.”

And he strode out of the throne room at top speed without a backwards glance.


	34. ...................

“So Odin told you,” Frigga said, entering the room through a cloak of illusion and appearing in an instant, as though she had always been there.

Loki straightened up from where he stood bent over a table full of beakers and alembics with Judah. “Of my impending nuptials? Yes. You knew all along, I assume.”

She wrung her hands. “I only learned after you had already left.”

“No psychic tickle about it, then?”

“I… had an idea your father had… plans. I did not know what they were.”

“Couldn’t have warned me, though.”

“Would it have done any good? Except to wind you up.”

“Well I’m certainly well-wound now.”

“You knew this would happen someday.”

“I did?” he said.

“You must have,” Frigga said, spreading her hands wide. “You’re a prince. You cannot live the life of a carefree bachelor forever. You are young, and I would have preferred you had your freedom a good while longer, but your father is old, and the line of succession must be secure.”

“Why? Thor is young, he’s not going to die any time soon,” Loki said.

“True, but you don’t understand how it works, do you? A crown without an heir is an uneasy situation, no matter how young and healthy the god. And you gave Thor the epli for his mortal love – if he marries her, their children cannot inherit the throne.”

“Why not?” Loki said.

“Because the marriage will not be accepted by Asgardian law. They will not be legal heirs.”

“Thor will be King. He can change the law.”

“Thor cannot change the law to suit himself. That is when he stops being a King and becomes a dictator.”

“But it’s a bad law.”

She shook her head. “I do not know if it is a bad law or not,” she said. “I only know that it is the law.”

A thought struck him. “On Midgard… a mortal King was forced to abdicate his throne because he loved a woman deemed inappropriate. Thor won’t… have to give up the succession for the sake of Miss Foster, will he?”

Frigga shook her head. “No King of Asgard has ever been forced to give up the throne for the sake of love. If they marry… she simply will not be recognized as Queen. Thor will rule alone.”

“With my offspring – excluding Judah – as his heirs. Because Judah is also not a ‘proper’ heir.”

“Not under Asgardian law. You were born royalty. Judah was not even born to the nobility.”

“And it doesn’t matter that the royalty I was born to was enemy royalty.”

“No. It doesn’t. And in any event, the people do not know that.”

“The people know I was adopted. Do they know that I am a ‘proper’ heir at all?”

“They have been told that you are a son of an extraterrestrial royal family. They have not been told which one.”

“All of this insistence that what family you were born into has any bearing on who you are or what you are capable of is absolutely ridiculous and utterly archaic,” Loki said.

“I think who gives us life has some effect on us,” Frigga said.

Loki stared at her. “Then it’s true, isn’t it? You think I went bad because of Laufey. A born monster.”

“I daresay even Laufey was not ‘born’ a monster,” Frigga said calmly. “But you do rather share his nasty temper. You are considerably better at controlling it, but it is there. Gnawing at you. More than that, however, you share a certain kinship with your mother. Including a predilection for getting your own way, and not sharing yourself with others.”

“You know who my mother was?” Loki said, wide-eyed. She gazed back at him dispassionately.

“Loki. For such an intelligent boy, you really can be quite stupid.”

He waved her words away. “Mother – do not speak to me of similarities between you and me. You are speaking of the kinship of _blood._ That’s a different thing.”

“And I say again, you really can be quite stupid. Even with the evidence presented by Angrboda, you still do not get it.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well. Tell me of your lesson. What are you teaching Judah?” she said, clapping her hands together and coming towards the table full of equipment.

“We’re learning how to make a Forgetfulness potion,” Loki said.

“I see. And how is that done?” she said.

“I forget.”

She slapped at his arm. “Silly boy. For what is it used?”

“To make people forget things they were never meant to know. Or cannot handle remembering.”

“How strong is the effect?”

“It will erase at least six months – Asgardian months – of memories from even a godly mind, so fairly potent. There’s nothing much out there stronger.”

“Is this something a child should be learning to make?”

“Perhaps not, but it’s easy to make.”

“How would you get someone to take it if they did not wish to forget?” Frigga said, interested in spite of herself.

“It has a sweet, rather pleasant flavor, so a few drops can easily be added to someone’s drink without them realizing it.”

“And have you ever… done that?” she said.

“No, no, of course not,” Loki said, a touch too glibly.

“Mmm.”

“Mother,” Loki said, smiling. “When I do not want something learned, it is not learned. I do not have to make people forget. Mother, I can keep Father _and_ Heimdall from seeing what I do not wish them to see.”

“Yes, and I wonder where such skills come from,” Frigga said, rolling her eyes.


	35. ...................

“Where have you been?” Thor said, three days later, as Loki trotted into the common area of the palace for the first time since Odin broke the news to him.

“Teaching Judah to speak Asgardian,” Loki said. “He needs to learn it swiftly, before everyone gets tired of being deferential to the fact that he cannot.”

“For three whole days?”

“He has much to learn.”

“You’ve been hiding, is what you’ve been doing,” Thor said. “Avoiding your potential fiancées.”

“If you were being forced to marry, would you be happy about it?” Loki asked, avoiding his brother’s eye.

“No, I wouldn’t. But Brother, you cannot hide in your room with Judah forever.”

“I’d certainly like to.”

“Brother,” Thor said, taking Loki by both shoulders, “are you going to be all right?”

“Why do you ask?” Loki said.

“Because I’m going after Surtur and I want to know you won’t have a meltdown while I’m gone.”

Loki blushed. “I’ll be fine, brother. No chance of a psychotic break on the horizon. I’ll even… talk to them. The ladies. I swear.”

“Do. But mostly… keep an eye on things for me. I don’t know how long I’ll be, and… you-know-who is still out there somewhere.”

Loki shuddered. He did indeed know who – Thanos. He was surprised the purple ballsack hadn’t arrived yet, frankly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” he said. “I mean, have you had dreams of Ragnarok? That was what spurred you to seek Surtur in the other timeline. If you’re not having them now, then presumably Surtur is no threat. Yet.”

Thor shook his head. “No dreams, but I know he’s out there, plotting, scheming, dreaming of revenge. I cannot leave this unfinished, Brother, especially not when I know I can prevail. He is, technically, a greater threat than Thanos, even if he does not come with an army and an Infinity Gauntlet.”

“Thanos won’t have the Infinity Gauntlet either, this time,” Loki said. “We managed to keep most, if not all, of the stones from his grasp.”

“True,” Thor said brightly.

“But he still frightens me,” Loki admitted.

“But you’ll face him like a god,” Thor said. “As you’ve faced every foe before him.”

“I faced every foe before him standing slightly behind you, Brother. What happens if he comes and you’re not here?” Loki said, eyes wide and voice serious.

“Are you admitting you need me?” Thor said, smiling just a little. “Brother, you’re always ten steps ahead of every opponent. And if you would just bring your full power to bear upon him, he would fall before you in no time flat.”

“I have only one hole card where Thanos is concerned,” Loki said, shaking his head. “And I do not wish to play it.”

“Why hold back? Lay it all on the table!” Thor said.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“And why not?”

“Because you cannot know what I’ve done.”

“Loki – what have you done?”

Loki would not look him in the eye. “What I had to. To set things right. It will all work out, Brother. One way or another, it will work out. But I had to… do things… to ensure it.”

“Loki – What things?” Thor said, seizing him by the arms and giving him a shake.

“Nothing that can hurt anyone outside of myself, Brother,” Loki said, “assuming all goes as planned.”

“You and your plans,” Thor said, releasing him as though he were hot. “I will trust you, Brother, for now, because you leave me little choice, but I want you to know, I do not support this. I don’t want you hurt any more than I want anyone else hurt. Less than many.”

“I know. I am sorry, but I had no choice. Everyone was dead.”

“Everyone who?” Thor said.

Loki shook his head vigorously. “Everyone no one. It’s nothing, nothing.”

“Brother – do not keep secrets from me.”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You’re not talking sense.”

“I know. I know. It’s insane. But you have to trust me, it will work out. Mother knows.”

“Mother… knows? Mother knows your plan?”

“Even I cannot hide the truth from her.”

“Well… I am… somewhat comforted, then,” Thor said. “I know Mother would not let you hurt yourself. Or anyone else, if she could help it. But Brother, whatever you’re planning, be careful, and… if you cannot be careful… consider bringing me into it with you? You can trust me.”

Loki nodded, still not meeting Thor’s gaze. “I know. If it comes to it, Brother, I will tell you. But it cannot be known, and that means I cannot tell anyone who does not already know. It cannot get out, Brother.”

“I truly wish I understood you, Brother,” Thor said, shaking his head, “but I will let you be. Keep an eye on things for me. I will be back as soon as I can.”


	36. ...................

Though he dreaded it, Loki kept his promise to meet with his prospective fiancées. He brought Judah along to meet them as well, possibly just for a touch of moral support. Or perhaps for bullet shielding.

“Dad, I don’t get it,” Judah said, as they walked from Loki’s room to the common area where the ladies awaited them. “You’re getting married, but you don’t know who to?”

“To whom,” Loki corrected. “And yes, that’s about the size of it. It’s arranged.”

“I didn’t think that kind of thing happened anymore,” Judah said.

“You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Loki said. “And it happens more often on Midgard than you realize.”

“Will I have to marry someone that someone else chooses for me?” Judah asked.

“No.”

“Dad. You told me never to trust you.”

“You can trust me on this.”

“Why?”

“Because I wouldn’t lie to you about it.”

Judah stopped and tugged on his sleeve. “Dad. Why?”

Loki stopped and looked down at his son. “Judah, Odin didn’t intend to force the issue of marriage upon me as it is, he was forced to because your Uncle Thor may be about to… well… to marry a woman that Asgardian law deems ‘inappropriate.’”

“But why does that mean _you_ have to get married? Why can’t he let you choose for yourself like he let Uncle Thor?” Judah said, almost shrieking.

“Two reasons, Judah,” Loki said, taking the boy by the shoulders and kneeling down before him. “One: he has to be absolutely certain that both his heirs don’t go marrying ‘inappropriately,’ and me being me, that’s a real possibility, and two… well… I’ve never had much luck with goddesses.”

“What do you mean by that?” Judah said.

“Asgardians, goddesses especially, consider me… ugly.”

_“What?”_ Judah said, quite literally shrieking now. _“Ugly? You?_ Are they blind _and_ stupid?”

“Yes and yes,” Loki said, grinning just slightly. “Now calm down, my boy, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? If they think you’re ugly they’re going to throw stones at me!”

“They will not. Judah, you’re a beautiful boy, and you’ll have a freedom I never had – to love whoever you damned well want to, noble or otherwise, Asgardian or Vanir or whatever, and marry or not as you please. You’ll be able to be whoever and whatever you desire. Royalty doesn’t typically have that kind of freedom.”

“Why will I have it?” Judah said, eyeing him shrewdly.

Loki cringed. “Because… legally… you’re not royalty.”

“I knew it,” Judah said.

“Judah, listen to me: you are my son. You are a full member of this family. It’s a stupid legal technicality that I cannot do anything about, and that, too, is why I have to get married. You are my son, but you aren’t in line for the throne. If Uncle Thor marries the woman he loves and they have children, they will not be in line for the throne either.”

“Because they’ll be mortal-born,” Judah said, snarling.

Loki shook his head. “No. Your mortality and their mother’s mortality has nothing to do with it. It’s a ludicrous issue of birthright. A class distinction. Jane Foster was not born to a noble or royal house of any realm, so she is considered unsuitable for the throne. You were also born outside of the nobility, so while you will always be my little Prince, under the laws of this Kingdom, you do not qualify.”

“You were adopted,” Judah said. “How did [i]you[/i] qualify?”

“My father was a King,” Loki said. “An enemy, but royalty. Under Asgardian law, that’s good enough.”

Loki touched Judah’s cheek. “Trust me, you’re not missing out on anything, not being in line for the throne. It’s a difficult and thankless job. I wanted it once, or thought I did, but now I am relieved it goes to my brother. It is a terrible responsibility. I was selfish and immature, and I wanted to play at being Supreme God, above all others. I am not made to be King. I do not know who is.”

“Who will be King after Thor?” Judah asked.

“Assuming he does not have a legal heir of his own, one of my children will have that responsibility.”

“But what if you don’t have a child before… something happens to him?”

“That’s highly unlikely. Thor is strong and gods do not die easily.”

“But what if it _did?”_ Judah asked.

“Then… I suppose… I would be King. I am technically next in line even now. Father wants me to produce heirs to take myself[i] out[/i] of the line of succession, so to speak.”

“And what if something happened to _both_ of you?” Judah said in a very small voice. He looked frightened. Loki knew he had to answer this question honestly.

“I’m not certain what would happen,” he said. “There’s never not been a direct royal heir before. Probably they’d bring someone up from the nobility, but there’d likely be a lot of fighting over just who, exactly, that would be.”

“It wouldn’t be me,” Judah said.

“Exceedingly doubtful, unless the law was changed. Do you _want_ to be King?”

Judah shook his head vigorously. “I can’t even speak Asgardian. I could never rule this place.”

“You’re learning Asgardian. You could learn to rule. But I would much rather you led a less stressful life. Every painting of Odin All-Father depicts an old god, even the ones painted at the start of his rule, when he was very, very young.”

“I may be immortal, but I’m not a god. Am I?”

Loki sighed and stood up straight. He squared his shoulders. “Not as such,” he said. “Odin knows a way by which a god may impart godly powers upon another, or indeed take them away, but I do not feel quite right, at this time, in asking him how that is done. I thought, when I first learned about my adoption, that my mother must have granted me my powers by the same means – we share many of the same abilities – but Odin swears I had at least some powers from birth, and a number of my powers are much different to anything I know of Frigga. Why she would grant me power when I already had quite a bit is beyond me, so I think perhaps it is mere coincidence.”

“Would you make me a god if you knew how?” Judah asked.

“My boy, I would _love_ to share my powers with you,” Loki said. “I do not know if it is wise, but it would be so damned much _fun.”_

Judah grinned, and Loki grinned back. He bent down and kissed the boy on the brow. “Come on: we’re keeping the ladies waiting,” he said.

They started walking again. Judah was silent for a moment and then quietly mused, “Lot of books in the Royal Library.”

“Yes, there are.”

“Lot of books.”

“Indeed.”

“Have you read them all?”

“Judah, it would take a team of gods an entire immortal lifetime to read them _all._ You’re hinting, none too subtly. You want me to research how to share my powers with you.”

“Would it be in there somewhere?”

“If it was anywhere. I don’t know, it might simply be something Odin can just _do,_ one of his powers. It may even have been a power bestowed upon him upon his ascension to the throne. I received a few powers I did not fully explore when I ascended to the throne during my brief… stints.”

“I thought you were only King once.”

“Never mind. We’re almost there. I’ll look, Judah, but I cannot promise anything.”

Loki plastered a false smile on his face and ushered the boy into the sitting room where the ladies rose to greet them.

“Sigyn, Angrboda, allow me to introduce my son, Judah. Judah – this is Angrboda and Sigyn. One of these ladies will eventually be your new mother.”

Both women smiled, but there was something off in Angrboda’s. She turned her attention to Loki as soon as possible, while Sigyn sat and spoke with Judah for a bit in quite an easy manner, very much as though she enjoyed it. More so than she enjoyed speaking to Loki, in fact.

“How about you and me sneak out of here and hit the town?” Angrboda said. “It would be good for you. You’re under a lot of pressure, with your brother off fighting Ragnarok and who knows what, and you staying here at home playing Parenthood. Stress is bad for your condition. You need some ‘Me Time’.”

_“Playing Parenthood?”_ Loki said.

“It’s actually a rather good idea,” Sigyn piped up. “Stress is terrible for anyone suffering Post-Trauma Stress, and you need to take plenty of opportunity to relax and enjoy yourself. I’ll be happy to watch Judah for you, and it’s not like you weren’t supposed to get to know both of us casually – like on something that could be construed as a date.”

Loki’s skin paled and he hesitated.

“Of course, if you do not trust me, I can easily stay with Judah under the watchful eye of your mother Her Majesty the Queen. I doubt she will mind spending time with her grandson,” Sigyn said shrewdly.

Loki swallowed. “While that was not my sole concern, I confess it does ease my mind considerably. Thank you.”

Angrboda tugged on his arm and pulled him away step by step. “Remember – he has to eat his vegetables or he doesn’t get dessert. He has homework, too – “The Miller’s Tale” by Chaucer, modern English translation, page 165 of his Dividing Fractions workbook, and chapter twenty-three of The Great Dragon Wars for his history lesson. You don’t have to go over any of it with him, just make sure he at least has a go at getting it all done.”

“Come on,” Angrboda said, giving his arm an especially hard tug.

“I’ll see you later, Judah, I love you,” Loki said, and Angrboda tugged him out the door. “Where are we going, anyway?”

She laughed her high tittering laugh. “Where else is there to go that’s any fun? The tavern, of course.”

The tavern. Loki felt his stomach give a funny lurch. He didn’t much care for the taverns of Asgard, actually. He wasn’t a big drinker, and drunken gods, while decent marks for mischief, were rather sad creatures. The taverns were crowded, smelly, and extremely loud, three conditions he didn’t particularly care for since coming home a thousand years ago.

Well, in all honesty, he’d never liked places that were smelly. He was royalty, after all.

She led him out of the palace and through the streets to the nearest tavern, one of the most upscale places serving the most upscale clientele – being closest to the palace and the noble households that clustered at its feet, it went without saying. It was still crowded, noisy, and bad-smelling, just less dingy and better decorated than others.

Angrboda ordered an ale, and Loki ordered something harder. He [i]wasn’t[/i] a big drinker, not nearly so much as Thor who at least knew when to cut himself off, but in these places he felt compelled to drink, as if to drown out the bad feelings they engendered in him. Angrboda eyed his glass of liquor approvingly and raised her tankard in a kind of salute.

“To the future,” she said, smiling. “May it be brighter than the past.”

“I hear that,” Loki said, though his own smile was rather sickly. He swallowed down his drink of something harder like it was water.


	37. ...................

“Ahem.”

Loki opened one bleary eye and saw his son standing before his bed. He closed his eye again and put his hand over his face.

_“Ahem.”_

“School is cancelled today, Judah – go play,” he said, burying his face in the pillow.

“That’s _not_ what we need to talk about.”

Loki paused, then picked his head up and said, with some trepidation, “What _do_ we need to talk about, Judah?”

“That woman. She got you drunk last night.”

Loki had never been drunk in his entire life, but judging by the condition of his head, he had indeed been drunk last night.

“My father used to get drunk, all the time,” Judah went on. “Mom tried to keep me from seeing him like that, but I saw plenty. You were _drunk,_ Dad. That woman got you drunk.”

“All right, first thing – Angrboda did not get me drunk, Judah. I regret to inform you that I did that to myself,” Loki said. “Second thing – tell me what I did that got you so riled up. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, did I?”

Judah’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly. “No. You staggered in, patted my head, said goodnight in a funny voice, and fell into bed.”

“A funny voice?” Loki said. He expected the boy meant that he slurred his speech, but given that he was talented with imitations he wasn’t certain.

“You know – like your tongue was too big,” Judah said. “My dad used to talk like that when he was drunk.”

“Yeah, it happens,” Loki said, rolling onto his back and pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I drank too much last night. I don’t usually do that – in fact, I’ve never done it before. I promise you, I’ll never do it again. All right?”

“I bet you _will_ if you marry _that_ one,” Judah said. “That’s _her_ idea of having fun. It was my father’s, too.”

_“That one_ has a name – it’s Angrboda,” Loki said. “And maybe it _is_ her idea of having fun, but it isn’t mine. I just didn’t quite have the stones to tell her so last night, so I drank harder than I meant to because I was uncomfortable.”

“Dad?” Judah said, rather quietly.

“Yes, Judah.”

“I can’t remember my parents. I mean… I remember my dad drinking… and I remember them dying… but I don’t remember much of anything else. I don’t remember the _good_ stuff. I don’t remember my mom’s eyes, or her smile, or her voice… That really came clear to me, yesterday, talking to Lady Sigyn. I don’t remember my mom.”

Loki took his hands away from his eyes and looked at Judah despite the way the light from the windows made his throbbing head pound harder. “You were very young, Judah. It’s not surprising your memories are fading. You’ve spent almost half your life without so much as a picture of them.”

“I don’t remember my real name, Dad.”

“You don’t think Judah Lokison is your real name?”

“You know what I mean. I don’t remember the name I was _born_ with.”

“No one is born with a name, Judah. It’s not stamped on us like a birthmark.”

_“You know what I mean!”_

“James, it was James. James Striker, Jr. Do you… want to go back to it?”

“No…” Judah said, wringing his hands. The boy looked absolutely miserable. “I just feel like I’m letting my parents down, forgetting all this stuff. Forgetting _them.”_

Loki rolled back onto his side and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Judah, you’re not letting anyone down. If your birth parents were like any good parents, they had one true dream in this world, and it’s the same dream I have – that you will live well and happy, and grow up strong and proud and healthy. And you can’t be happy if you’re fretting on the past. Don’t cling to the past and forget about the present, Judah. It never did _me_ any good.”

“Are you saying I should forget my parents?” Judah said.

“No. I just mean… don’t hate yourself for the things you _can’t_ remember. You were very young, your tiny, mortal brain had not developed very much yet,” he said, giving Judah a smile and a gentle pinch of the nose. “No child of five would be left with terribly specific memories of anything much beyond the traumas they experienced up to that point. It’s not your fault that you’ve forgotten, you certainly did not set out to forget. Life has a way of getting in the way of such things. Even gods forget, once time goes on long enough. They somehow forgot that I had an older sister, despite the fact that she led a reign of absolute terror and destroyed the Valkyries and it couldn’t have been before _everyone’s_ time. She didn’t seem that old to me.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Judah said.

“I deserved it,” Loki said. “I shouldn’t have drunk so much.”

“My dad would drink lots of black coffee when he had a hangover,” Judah said. “Not straight from the pot like you do it, but…”

Loki sighed. “While that does indeed sound marvelous, my boy, the coffee bean is a purely Midgardian product, and Asgard does not import anything from Midgard. No coffee.”

“They don’t import coffee, but they import little orphans,” Judah said, grinning nervously.

“If I were King, we’d import orphans _and_ coffee,” Loki said. He stroked Judah’s hair. “My little man. You’re on a big adventure, coming here. I bet it’s pretty scary, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, kinda. Sometimes. I mean, the first thing that happened is you get sent off somewhere for what felt like a really long time. A lot longer than three measly days, that’s for sure. And then… well… it hasn’t been much fun, being stuck in the palace because of the protestors. And I kind of feel panicky sometimes, because I can’t feel my heartbeat.”

“You can’t feel your heartbeat?”

“It’s gotten really, _really_ slow since I ate that epli thing. Sometimes I forget and I think something’s wrong with me. Like when I first wake up.”

“I suppose it does feel strange to go from a mortal heartbeat to an immortal one.” Loki thought for a moment, then he looked at Judah eye-to-eye. “You know I’m trying to do my best for you, right?”

“Yes.”

“But… I don’t always know what the best thing is,” he said. “I don’t know if making you immortal was a good thing or not, I don’t know if bringing you here was a good thing or not, I don’t know whether to stay here and get married or sneak you out the back door and make a run for it in the dark of night.”

“Is that option on the table?” Judah asked.

“Do you want to leave?” Loki asked.

Judah writhed again, unwilling to answer but trapped into doing so. “Grandma is great, I love her so much, but this place… it’s too much for me. It takes a _half an_ _hour_ to walk down to dinner.”

“You don’t think you’d get used to it?” Loki said. “We live very comfortably here. Much more so than we ever would anywhere else.”

“I liked the way we lived back home, even though it was small,” Judah said. “It was… friendlier.”

“Yes, I know what you mean. Well… I’ll think about it, Judah. I have to take a lot of things into consideration when making a decision like that.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to go?” Judah said.

“Judah, believe me, if it was just me, or if I was just a little bit more the ‘old’ me, I would go in a heartbeat. But I’m responsible for your life – that’s a big responsibility. I’ve got to try and do right by you. And that very small part of me that actually _is_ a grownup… is telling me that the best thing for you… for both of us, maybe… may not be what either of us wants.”

Judah frowned and looked close to crying, so Loki pulled him close to the bed for an awkward hug. “Don’t worry about it right now. I’ll find a compromise between grownup and what we want if at all possible. For now, tell me: what do you think of Lady Sigyn?”

Judah’s face brightened. “She’s great! I really hope you choose her!”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you should at least try and get to know Lady Angrboda before you decide you want your new mom to be Lady Sigyn?”

Judah shook his head, his face clouding over again just that swiftly. “I don’t trust the other one. I don’t think she really likes you, and I _know_ she doesn’t like me. She’s a… a what do you call ‘em? A gold digger.”

Loki put his hand on Judah’s cheek. “My sweet summer child. Neither of them _want_ to marry me. Both of them are here because of what they or their families can get out of a royal marriage. Angrboda is making the best of it. Sigyn is less inclined to do so because she feels that I am a criminal who got off because of power and prestige. She does, however, seem disinclined to hold it against _you,_ thank the ancestors.”

He thought about how Angrboda seemed disinclined to acknowledge Judah at all. Was it because he was born mortal, because of his different appearance, or because she did not like children? Or was it simply a misunderstanding, and she was merely uncomfortable to be intruding on this ready-made family? It was a question of some importance.

“What _do_ they get out of marrying you, exactly?” Judah asked. “You won’t be King unless something happens to Uncle Thor, right? Which you said was pretty unlikely.”

“They personally will become royalty, which is a pretty big deal in Asgard. Their children will be royalty, too, and so on down the line. Their family will take a huge step up in noble title, which means they will receive a larger stipend. Vanaheim is in tremendous debt, so a larger stipend might be a huge concern for either one of these ladies. Prestige, money, a life of ultimate luxury – everything a gold digger could ask for, really.”

“Would they ever be able to inherit the throne?” Judah asked.

“No, not unless one of their children inherited when they were too young to rule – they would rule as a Dowager until the rightful King or Queen came of age. That almost happened when my father became King – he was quite young – but the court determined he was old enough to rule on his own. I’m not certain they were right. By the sounds of things, Father made a lot of mistakes in his early days. He tried to hush up a lot of that history. He has been remarkably successful because he was so young then and he’s so old now, hardly anybody was alive back then.”

“So there’s no way for Grandma to be the real ruler of Asgard, then.”

Loki shook his head. “On Midgard, and in some of the other realms, there is something called ‘the Crown Matrimonial,’ where marrying a King or a Queen gives you the right to rule in their stead if something happens to them. We do not have that here. If Odin died and there was no heir, the crown would pass to whoever the court determined was best suited to wear it. It _might_ be Frigga, she has the advantage of being designated royalty – but it would not have to be, and she has the disadvantage of being Vanir. That’s a pretty _big_ disadvantage, really. Asgardians don’t like to admit it, but they’re pretty xenophobic.”

“Say what now?”

“It’s a big word that means they don’t like outsiders, except to keep bloodlines from becoming too inbred. Still, she is well-loved, Vanir or no.”

“She would be a better ruler than Odin, I think,” Judah said.

“Judah… you’re not plotting to overthrow your grandfather, are you?” Loki said.

“No. I just don’t think he’s a very good King.”

“He _is_ a good King, Judah. But it’s a _very_ hard job.”

“He’s not a good father,” Judah said. “He wasn’t a good father to you.”

“He was a better father than I give him credit for. I think… he just wasn’t prepared for the kind of child I was. He understood a boy like your Uncle – strong and rambunctious, ready to play and willing to fight. I was… Judah, I was what you Midgardians call a _nerd.”_

“That’s no excuse!”

“Perhaps it isn’t, but it is a reason. Judah, he’s the god of war. Your uncle was born to be a warrior. I most assuredly was not.”

“I know what you did in New York with the Chitauri,” Judah said. “I know even without them you almost beat the Avengers single-handedly. You can’t tell me you’re not a warrior.”

“I’m a god, Judah,” Loki said. “The Avengers are mostly mortals. I know how to fight, but that had to be trained into me through a lengthy and rather _brutal_ process. A process so brutal that, despite the dangers involved in not sending you to a proper school, I fully intend to homeschool you if you choose to go on with a magical education.”

Judah brightened. “You mean I can?”

“If you want. And if you promise to take it _very_ seriously.”

“You mean it –” Judah began, but he was cut off as a quartet of loud persons entered the room without permission, causing Loki to wince in pain.

It was actually a trio of loud persons, though four bodies were present – Lady Sif, Volstagg, and Fandral were gabbing at the top of their lungs. Hogun, as always, was grim and silent. “What do you want?” Loki said, pulling his pillow out from under his head and clamping it down over his ears in self-defense.

“We heard you might be feeling a bit… ‘under the weather,’ Serpent-Tongue,” Sif said, perching herself on the foot of the bed, “so we’ve come to help. As your friends.”

“You’re not my friends,” Loki pointed out.

“Yes we are,” Volstagg said.

“No, you’re not, you’re _Thor’s_ friends.”

“We’re your friends, too.”

“That rather fell through when I tried to kill Thor, didn’t it?”

“Thor asked us to keep an eye on you while he was gone,” Hogun said, always prepared to be honest, even brutally so.

“Ah. He didn’t trust me.”

“He _worried_ about you,” Fandral said, trying to soften it. “And he was right to worry, wasn’t he? Here he is, barely gone a day, and you drink yourself into oblivion. It’s just not _like_ you, Loki. You’ve always been temperate. With drink, at least.”

“Could you keep it down to a dull roar, please?” Loki said. “I’d truly appreciate it.”

Volstagg laughed heartily. “We have the cure for your swollen head. On your feet and come with us. Why – you did not even change out of your armor last night, did you? You hit it hard indeed.”

Volstagg was not as strong as Loki but he was more than strong enough to grab him and yank him bodily out of bed, which he proceeded to do. He and Fandral grabbed him by the arms and they and the rest of their band frog marched him out of the room, with Judah following behind.

“Don’t hurt him!” the boy said.

“Don’t worry, lad – we’re only here to help,” Volstagg said.

They sat him at a table in the common area and Hogun plunked a tankard down in front of him. Loki gave the contents a suspicious sniff. “Ale? Your cure for having drunk too much is to drink more?” he said.

“Works a charm,” Lady Sif said. “Trust me.”

“It’s not just ale,” Volstagg said. “It’s got two raw eggs mixed in. A little protein is good for a hangover.”

Loki pushed it away from himself. “I think I’d rather just go back to bed, thank you.”

“Drink it,” Hogun said, pushing it back. “The ale is weak. You will not get drunk again.”

“That’s not entirely what worries me. It sounds like an effective emetic.”

“Throwing up wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Sif said. “You’d feel better a lot faster.”

“I think I’ll just live with it, thanks,” Loki said, pushing his chair back and starting to rise.

Volstagg pushed him back down with one huge hand on his shoulder. “Sit. Drink. It will all be over in a gulp and then you’ll feel better.”

“I don’t think they’re going to let you out of it, Dad,” Judah said.

“We’re not,” Fandral said. “Trust us, it’s not that bad. Not _nearly_ as bad as the headache.”

Loki looked at Judah. _“This,”_ he said, very seriously, “is one of many very good reasons never to drink to excess. Remember this day.” And then he took a drink of the ale. He grimaced and put the tankard down again as he worked to swallow the wretched mixture. He gasped and said it again, perhaps for his own benefit as much as his son’s. “Remember this day.”


	38. ...................

_“Traitor!”_

_“Usurper!”_

_“Panty-Waist!”_

“Well, this is unpleasant,” Sigyn said.

“Come, my dear – you didn’t expect them to stop their protesting just because I had a date, did you?” Loki said, as they walked past the line of guardsmen pushing back the protestors outside the palace.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t have come this way,” she said. “Taking a flyer would have been… more anonymous.”

“But it’s only a short walk to the restaurant. Angrboda didn’t mind. Actually, she seemed to enjoy the attention.”

“Which says something about her,” Sigyn said. “We shouldn’t give these people the opportunity to become… _uncivil.”_

“Actually, one of them _did_ chuck a rock at me last night, apparently,” Loki admitted.

“What? Were you hurt?” Sigyn said.

“No, no, I caught it. No harm done. Angrboda seemed to be impressed when she told me about it.”

“Wait – so this is something you don’t remember doing?”

“Well, I was kind of blackout drunk.”

Sigyn gave him an incredulous look. “Is catching a stone someone randomly threw at you something you were likely to do when you _weren’t_ blackout drunk?”

“I can speak for when I _am_ blackout drunk, but when I’m sober I can snatch arrows.”

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Really? Is that… _natural_ ability… or training?”

“Training. Father used to take me out into the courtyard and loose arrows at me, and I had damned well better catch them…”

“No!” she said.

He smiled. “Of course not. But I had you going, didn’t I?”

“That’s not very funny. I was almost prepared to believe it.”

“Odin was a bit neglectful, perhaps, but he wasn’t openly abusive. Don’t worry about such things.”

“So how does one learn one has a talent for snatching arrows?”

“On the battlefield. Where else?”

“It just seems like, with all the chaos of battle, you wouldn’t be able to see something as small and swift as an arrow coming towards you, let alone be able to react to it.”

“I don’t know how I do it. I definitely don’t _see_ it. It’s more like I sense it. Sometimes I can hear it but usually it’s just a sense that something is coming at me.”

“That’s some spatial awareness, then.”

“You don’t believe me. You think I’m bragging?”

“No, no… it’s just… all your powers, all your skills… it starts to sound a trifle… _unlikely._ Even for royalty. And you are the god of deceit, aren’t you?”

“I’m the god of mischief and of fire. I got a reputation for deceit only because of my talents of illusion.”

“And for… tricking people.”

“That was just mischief.”

They reached the restaurant and Loki held the door for her. Fine dining was not a big thing in Asgard – most gods stuck to dining at the inns and taverns – and these places kept their doors open by virtue of playing to their clientele’s biggest weaknesses: prestige and stupidity. Consequently, they all worked to the same business plan: take something cheap and plentiful, like Asgardian Whitefish, which was cheaper than ever now because of how much of it had washed up boiled on the shoreline after Loki dealt with Malekith, and price it astronomically high so that only the richest of the rich could possibly afford to order it. That way, it becomes a symbol of status to order it and so, everyone wants it. It was ludicrous: Asgardians, as a general rule, did not like fish, and the accidental boiling in salt water hadn’t done it any favors whatsoever, but still they clamored for it, because to be seen ordering it was a mark of great prestige.

The waiter sat them at an intimate table and handed them menus. “Order whatever you wish,” Loki said. “You can have the fish, if you want.”

“I’m not a big fan of fish,” Sigyn said, opening her menu. “And the price they want for it is insane. I think I’d rather have something with chicken.”

“Practical,” he said. “Get what you want to eat rather than what you want people to see you eating. I wonder what Angrboda would choose if I brought her here?”

“Oh, Angrboda would get the fish,” Sigyn said, rather dismissively.

“Does she like fish?” Loki asked, eyebrow raised.

“It wouldn’t matter. Angrboda believes life is to be lived large. If she had the opportunity to get the most expensive item on a very expensive menu, she would go for it, whether there was any tangible or intangible benefit to eating it or not. It’s her way. It’s not right or wrong, it just is.”

“Yet you seem very judgmental about it.”

Sigyn sighed. “We are all raised by a certain set of values. As we grow, we develop our own. My values are not Angrboda’s. I try not to judge others, but I _do_ feel that the pursuit of pleasure is a low priority compared to… many other things.”

“Like what things?”

“Family, friendship, duty… love.”

He looked at her over his menu with some incredulity. “You’re a noble-born goddess, and you’re worried about _love?_ You really _didn’t_ want to be involved in this arrangement debacle, did you?”

“I didn’t. And I rather took it out on you, for which I apologize. Even a criminal doesn’t deserve that, especially at a Sanitarium.”

Loki hid behind his menu again. “So what’s his name, then?” he said.

“What’s who’s name?” she said.

“The god you’re in love with.”

“I’m not in love with any god.”

“Goddess, then.”

“There’s no goddess, either!”

“It’s Angrboda, isn’t it? You’re jealous because I might take your girl away from you.”

“I’m not going to lower myself to your level of immaturity.”

He put his menu down. “All right, I’m sorry. I just assumed there had to be someone you had your heart set on if you were so very upset about possibly _maybe_ getting married to me.”

“There was no one. I just… never had the opportunity to find anyone.”

“And you think there’s no chance you could find it with me.”

“I don’t… mean to be offensive, but… I don’t see how.”

“Well you’re not exactly my cup of tea, either.”

“I wouldn’t expect to be. We’re very different people.”

Fortunately, the waiter came and took their orders, saving them from any more of this. After he left, they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence over their wine.

At long last their meals came. Loki cleared his throat. “Judah really seems to like you,” he said, just to have something to say.

She smiled. “He’s a lovely boy. He’s certainly very fond of you.”

“You like children?”

“I do. I hope to have some of my own someday.”

“I hope to give my son a good mother.”

“I hope you do. I hope Judah is very happy, whatever your choice.”

“I want that more than anything else. For Judah to be happy.”

“That means you’re a real parent.”

“Did you think I was not?”

“I confess, I wondered. You have a certain reputation for frivolousness and immaturity. I thought perhaps raising a mortal child was a kind of whim for you, a game you were playing.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

She turned her attention to her plate of home-style “chicken,” actually not chicken at all since there were no birds in Asgard, but it was white meat, feathered, and tasted roughly the same so that was what they called it in English. Loki cut a piece off his steak – it wasn’t beef – and chewed. He didn’t look forward to teaching Judah about Asgardian livestock.

“So… I got a taste of what you’re teaching Judah from the homework he had last night,” Sigyn ventured, after a sip of wine. “Is there anything in particular you’re keen for him to learn?”

Loki sighed. “Everything. He’s the size and mental development of a sixty-eight-year-old but he’s only been alive for nine Midgardian years. He has so much to learn. Fortunately, he’s incredibly bright. We’re mostly focused right now on learning to speak Asgardian. He doesn’t need to go through his days not knowing what everybody is saying around him.”

“Does he find it very difficult?”

“He doesn’t find it easy, but he’ll learn. He’s only just begun, after all. I should have started him on it sooner, but I never really intended to bring him here.”

“Have you given a mind to sending him to school?”

“On Midgard, I couldn’t – he did not legally ‘exist’ there. Here, I don’t know… there’s so much emphasis on military training, especially for the upper classes. I don’t want that for him.”

“What if _he_ wants it?”

“When _he_ reaches the age where _he_ has the knowledge and years to make such a choice, I will honor it, but in the meantime, I don’t want him brutalized and brainwashed into thinking that’s all there is for him to be.”

“What if he decides to become a warrior and then finds he hasn’t the training to handle it?”

“Unfortunately, right now my son appears to have his heart set on becoming a Battlemage.” He tilted his head and his wineglass at opposing angles and gave her a cockeyed grin that had no humor in it. “Just like Dad.”

Sigyn sat back in her chair. “How does that make you feel?” she asked.

“I said I would support him in whatever he wished to do, but I will do my damnedest to convince him to pursue some other line of work.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“You don’t?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t.”

It was Loki’s turn to sit back. “I expected you to say I was being selfish.”

“No one knows better than a Battlemage what kind of Hel being a Battlemage can be. I have treated a fair number of your fellows over the years. The stories they’ve told about the training program are… horrifying. I understand magic is dangerous and that mages attract demons, so I understand the need for discipline, but I do not understand the need to torture and abuse children for the sake of turning them into Battlemages.”

“I, too, will never understand it,” Loki said. He took a sip of wine. His hand was shaking.

“Perhaps if you shared… some of this… with Judah, he would understand why it is you do not want him to follow in your footsteps,” she suggested.

He laughed feebly. “Should I tell him how I was stripped naked and chained by my wrists to a stone wall at night instead of sent to a bed to sleep?” he said. “I don’t want to give the boy nightmares.”

“You’re a very smart god,” she said quietly. “Surely you can find a way to communicate to him the fact that it was traumatic, without going into deep, and potentially traumatizing, detail.”

“Yes, I suppose I could. I would venture to guess he will still want to study magic, however.”

“Is that a bad thing? Do you object to the study of magic in its entirety or only to the Battlemage program?”

“Magic is dangerous.”

She picked up her cutlery. “So is a fork. One can be taught to use it properly and responsibly.”

“That’s not quite the same level of danger. What can happen if you misuse a fork? You put out an eye? Ask my father – the loss of an eye is not such a big deal.”

She put the fork down. “You fear demonic possession. Did you fear it _before_ your captors attempted to force you to summon a demon?”

“Can we not perform psychoanalysis at the dinner table?” Loki said.

She smiled just slightly. “There is no wrong time for psychoanalysis,” she said, but she let the matter be.


	39. ...................

“Well, once we got past the pre-judgment parts and the psychoanalysis, I fancy we actually had a fairly good time tonight. Am I wrong?” Loki said as they walked back to the palace.

“We did,” Sigyn said. “I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Perhaps we have more in common than you thought,” Loki said.

“Perhaps we do. You clean up well, at least. But I rather thought you were trending toward Angrboda. Does it really matter to you whether we have anything in common?”

Loki sighed. “It does, actually. As much as I do like Angrboda, there’s still something… _not clicking,_ with her. I don’t know why – perhaps she doesn’t like children, perhaps she doesn’t like mortals, or perhaps she is simply not comfortable entering into a ready-made family, but she seems highly uncomfortable around my son, even to dislike him. And Judah has very swiftly picked up on that. He doesn’t like her. He has registered his vote for _you.”_

“I’m… sure she will warm up to him,” Sigyn said.

“I hope so, but I want to hedge my bets. I don’t want to bring a goddess into my son’s life who will be bad for him.”

“You would choose me over a goddess you seem to be very well-suited to, for your son’s sake?”

“I don’t know. I might have to. And it wouldn’t be such a hardship. I like Angrboda, but it’s not like I’m in _love_ with her. And truthfully, I don’t _want_ to marry either of you. Odin backed me into a corner with this whole ‘duty to the throne’ thing.”

“Why is it your duty and not your brother’s?” Sigyn asked. “He’s the Heir Apparent.”

Loki sighed gustily. “Because I stole for him the means to marry his mortal and completely not-highborn lady love. I could have been beheaded for that, but instead I was sentenced to a life of Husbandry.”

“All right, you’re not taking care of farm animals,” Sigyn said gently, “but I understand your meaning.”

“Do you think I got off too easy? I committed another crime, after all.”

“I don’t think love, or the facilitation of love, should ever be considered a crime.”

They reached the palace without incident and headed inside. They walked the long hall of the throne room in silence, their footsteps echoing in the grand chamber. About halfway along, Loki realized the chamber was not empty despite the lateness of the hour.

“Hello. What is this?” he said.

“What is what?” Sigyn asked.

“Father is here. And so is Forsetti.”

“The god of justice? What would he be doing here? And this late at night?”

“Levying sentence, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be here. Is there another way to the common area?”

“Come, my dear – they’ve probably been waiting for us for hours already.”

“Waiting for us?”

“Waiting for _me.”_

“What is this about?”

“When Father sentenced me to the Sanitarium, he didn’t do it properly. Court was not in session. Now, that wouldn’t be such a big deal, but there was no objective witness, either. The sentence doesn’t stand up, legally. That, and the people don’t like the verdict. Three days in a Sanitarium for treason and attempted fratricide? It’s a farce.”

“So, what, they’re going to sentence you again?”

“That’s about the size of things.”

“You’ve known about this for a while, I take it. And you’ve just been living with this burden on your head all this while.”

“I live with quite a few burdens on my head. I’ll show you my helmet sometime – that in and of itself is quite a burden on my head.”

“Loki, I know you use humor as a shield, but please do not get defensive with me.”

They walked up to the throne where Odin awaited. Loki bowed. “Father. I take it you’ve come up with a solution to the problem of the inappropriate sentence.”

“It comes as no comfort to me, my boy,” Odin said.

“I daresay it will come as no comfort to me, either. Shall we have it over with?”

“Loki Odinson, here today, in the presence of this witness, it is the determination of this court that for the crime of treason and attempted fratricide, for which you have been found guilty, you be sentenced to caning.”

The color drained from Sigyn’s face. “Your Majesty, you can’t,” she said.

“The only alternative is life in the dungeons,” Odin said. “Which would _you_ rather receive, my son?”

“Oh please, give me the caning.”

Sigyn grabbed his arm. “My prince, gods have _died.”_

“But at least it was relatively quick. I’ve been in the dungeons, it’s a slow descent into madness.”

“When were you ever in the dungeons?”

“It’s moot. I’ll never go there again.”

“Are we done here?” Forsetti said. “I’ve got a card game to get back to. I was on a streak.”

“Yes, you may leave,” Odin said. “My boy – I want your prospective brides to stand as witnesses to your punishment. I want as many witnesses to stand as possible. Let no one say later that the rod was spared.”

“You won’t make my son stand witness,” Loki said tightly. Odin shook his head.

“Of course not.”

“Then it is well. Tomorrow?”

“At First Call.”

Loki bowed another short, swift bow. “I will see you in the morning, Father,” he said, and marched swiftly out of the throne room without waiting for Sigyn or even looking back.

“This could very well be his undoing, you know,” Sigyn said. “Hasn’t he been tortured enough?”

“He is strong,” Odin said. “He will withstand this.”


	40. ...................

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Little boys should be in bed, Judah. It’s late.”

Judah stepped fully into the bedroom. “I wanted to hear how your date with Lady Sigyn went. Something went wrong, didn’t it? You don’t like her.”

“Nothing went wrong on our date, Judah. She’s a good person.”

“Then why are you sitting there all wound up?”

Loki looked down at himself. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his arms and legs tightly crossed, as though holding himself tightly could keep himself from flying to pieces. He forced himself to unfold.

“It’s nothing. Grown-up business.”

Judah came and stood next to him. “Dad. Tell me,” he said.

Loki sighed. “Your grandfather had to hand down a new sentence in my case. Tomorrow morning I’ll be punished for my crimes. I don’t look forward to it, but it’s nothing you need worry about.”

Judah’s eyes got big. “He’s not sending you _away_ again?”

“No. Like I said, have no fear.”

Judah put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Dad… what _is_ your sentence?”

“Nothing major.”

“Dad, I’m not stupid. You’re upset.”

Loki sighed and put both hands on Judah’s shoulders. “Judah, you believe bad people should be punished for the things they do that are wrong, right?” he said.

Judah’s chest hitched and a tear dripped from one eye. “Yeah… but you’re not a bad person. I don’t know why you did what you did, but you’re _not._ I _know_ you’re not.”

“I still have to be punished.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes, Judah, I do. I did wrong, and now I must pay for it. That is the way it works.”

More tears, falling freely from both eyes now. “What are they going to do to you?” Judah said.

“Public flogging. It won’t be so bad, Judah. Over and done with in a few minutes, and then we’ll hear no more about it for the rest of our lives.”

 _“Daddy…”_ Judah said, and threw his arms around Loki’s neck and gave him a long, damp hug.

“I kind of miss the days when you called me Daddy all the time,” Loki said. “Don’t know why. Nobody calls anybody Dad _or_ Daddy up here.”

“I love you so much,” Judah said, his voice muffled by Loki’s shoulder.

“I love you too, my boy.”

“I owe you my life.”

“No. _I_ owe you your life.”

Judah picked his head up. “What do you mean?” he said.

“I’m the reason you lost your parents,” Loki said, admitting it for the first time. “I’m the reason countless New Yorkers lost their lives. Saving you was like trying to put out a forest fire with a teardrop, but it was something.”

“So that’s why you saved me? Guilt?”

“I certainly couldn’t let you die. And you were so cute… and _manipulative,_ instantly calling me ‘Daddy’ the way you did. I knew straight off we were made for each other.”

“I guess we both had an agenda,” Judah said, giggling through his tears. “Dad? Can I… be there? Tomorrow?”

“Why would you want that, Judah?”

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

Loki kissed him on the brow. “I’ll never be alone, Judah. Not while I know you love me. And I do not want you to see sights like that. They’re not good for you. Look at me: I saw many such sights in my youth, and you wouldn’t say _I’m_ a healthy individual, would you?”

“Will there be… someone with you?”

“There will be many with me. It will be a public spectacle.”

“You know what I mean, Daddy – Uncle Thor isn’t here, so I know _he_ won’t be there. Will Grandma be there? _Someone_ who loves you?”

“I don’t want her there, but I expect she will be,” Loki said, passing a hand over his brow. “Father wants as many witnesses as possible. Lady Angrboda and Lady Sigyn will be there. He wants the people to believe that he didn’t have the caner go leniently on me just because I’m his son.”

“Daddy, how bad will it be, really?”

“It won’t be that bad.”

_“Daddy.”_

“It won’t. My boy, the alternative is life in the dungeons. I would much rather take this.”

“You’ve been hurt before. I heard Grandma talking about it with Uncle Thor.”

“I have been hurt before. Which is why I know I can get through this just fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Judah went in for another tight hug. “I don’t like the idea of you being hurt.”

“It will be all right, my son. You’ll see. I’ll stand, I’ll take my punishment, the protestors will finally be satisfied, and then we’ll be free to see Asgard in its entirety. I have much to show you. In the meantime, you’d better get some sleep. It’s very late.”

“Asgardian nights are too long,” Judah said.

“But Asgardian days are much longer,” Loki said. “Go on, now.”

“Can I sleep here?”

“You know you probably won’t be able to any longer once I’m married, Judah…”

“You’re not married yet,” Judah said.

“True, and thank the ancestors for that. But Judah, I want you to talk to Lady Sigyn.”

“I already talk to her.”

“I don’t mean _talk,_ I mean… talk.”

“About?”

“About seeing your parents die, and how that still affects you. And about seeing me afterward, and how you were afraid I would kill you as I had killed them.”

“I wasn’t!” Judah said.

“I want you to be _truthful_ with her, Judah. You’ve been lying to yourself for too long. If you’re not comfortable talking to Lady Sigyn about this then I can set you an appointment with Lady Eir, the Royal Healer, but she does not specialize in psychology as Lady Sigyn does.”

“You think I’m sick.”

“I think you’re hurting. I should have had you talking to someone right along, but I never trusted healers. That was wrong of me.”

“I don’t need to talk to her. I can just talk to _you.”_

“I don’t have the knowledge to help you work through your fears. Judah, trust me on this – you can’t let fear and pain fester until it ruins your life. Talking to me or Uncle Thor or your Grandma or anyone you trust can help you, but I would feel better if you talked to someone who knows how to guide you through it properly. Like Lady Sigyn. I think she would be willing to listen, and you _do_ trust her, don’t you?”

“Yeah. All right, I’ll talk to her. If you really want me to.”

“I really do.”

Judah looked at him expectantly. “Are you going to let me sleep here or not?” he said.

Loki scooted over so there was room. “Yes, climb in here.”

He held the boy against his chest. Judah formed a tight little bundle though he was getting to be quite tall. He’d waited too long to admit to himself that the child needed help. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to grow up feeling anything like he himself felt inside. He hoped it wasn’t too late already.


	41. ...................

Dawn broke fresh and clear, as it always did in Asgard. Loki saw the sun peek through the window shades with eyes that had not closed the entire night long. He gently extricated himself from his son’s embrace and slipped out of bed, tucked the boy in, and made himself ready for public pain and humiliation. He did not put on armor, they would only make him take it off. Instead he put on a slightly less casual version of his sleepwear, which was perfectly fine for wearing in public if a little unusual: a forest green tunic with black and gold trim, and matching forest green trousers. He sat down in a chair and slipped on his boots just before a guard came to the door and knocked, waking Judah.

“I’m sorry, My Lord Prince – it’s time,” the guard said.

“Daddy,” Judah said.

“Give me just a moment, will you please? First Call isn’t for a bit, after all,” Loki said, and the guard nodded reluctantly.

Loki turned to the bed. “Judah, I want you to go to your room. I want you to work on your Asgardian. Study your prepositions, all right? Study hard. Don’t think about anything else. Can you do that for me?”

Judah nodded, tears in his eyes. “Daddy?” he said.

“Yes, Judah?”

“I hate this place.”

Loki sighed. “We haven’t had the best experience since we’ve come here, but that’s my fault, Judah. No one else’s.”

“I can think of someone else whose fault it is,” Judah said.

Loki held up a hand. “No, Judah. It’s my fault. Mine and mine alone. Now go to your room, take a nice, refreshing shower bath, get dressed, and study like the little scholar that you are. Make me proud. It won’t be difficult, because I already am.”

Judah’s lip quivered as he looked at his adoptive father, then he climbed out of bed and bolted past him and the guard and ran down the corridor to his room and slammed the door behind him.

“He’s not happy about this,” Loki said to the guard. “Have you got kids?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Well. There’s always someday.”

“We… really should be getting on, my Lord.”

“Yes, yes. Let’s get it over with.”

The guard led him down the corridor to the common areas, out to the throne room and through it to the front doors of the palace. They stood there just inside for quite some time, listening to the crowd assemble. Despite the early hour it sounded as if quite a few Asgardians were turning out to witness the Renegade Prince get his comeuppance. It wasn’t every day, after all, that a member of the royal family was caned in the square like a common rustler. The average sentence was ten strikes, but if the sentence was fair, Loki would receive somewhat more than that. Caning was usually not meted out for significant offenses like treason or attempted murder. When it was, it was sometimes fatal. Loki was surprisingly unworried about that. He had survived terrible beatings as a child in the name of “training.” He could survive this as a grown god in the name of “justice.”

First Call was the time when most Asgardians would ordinarily just be rising from their beds. But when the horns sounded and the guard led Loki out into the square before golden Odinhall, it seemed the entire population of the city awaited them. Odin was wearing his golden ceremonial armor and his crown, and he did not look at Loki as he was brought to stand on the makeshift stage in the middle of the square. There the guard made him take off his tunic. Gods and especially goddesses standing close enough to see his scars winced as they remembered what he had already been through, but not everyone was moved to empathy.

_“Give it to ‘im hard!”_ someone shouted, and others echoed the cry. _“Let ‘im cry for ‘is mama!”_

_“’E’s not ‘alf the god Prince Thor is!”_

_“Never was good for nothing!”_

_“Always had a mean, nasty look to ‘im. Knew ‘e’d go wrong in the end.”_

“Don’t listen to them, my boy,” Queen Frigga whispered where she stood next to Odin, as though he could hear her from such a distance. “They don’t know you.”

“Prince Loki, son of Odin, it is the determination of the King of Asgard that you be sentenced to thirty strikes of the cane, for the crimes of treason and attempted fratricide,” Odin said, in a voice that boomed over every other. “Let this punishment stand as fit. Let no god say your name protected you from due punishment.”

“This is wrong,” Sigyn said, at Frigga’s elbow. Angrboda stood at her other hand. “My queen, can’t you do anything, say anything?”

“Unfortunately I have no power to change Odin’s mind once it is made up,” Frigga said. “And he truly thinks this is the least punishment he can give the boy. Maybe he’s even right.”

“But this is _barbaric._ I would expect this in Vanaheim, but I did not know such practices were held to in Asgard. I thought Asgard was _civilized.”_

“Asgard is mired in trillions of years of staunch traditionalism, my dear. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child’ and capital punishment are a couple of the biggest traditions we just can’t throw off.”

A line of drummers gave a roll on their instruments. Loki got down on his knees. The caner stepped up and took his cane – a hollow seven-foot hardwood pole about three inches in diameter – and swung it. It struck with a solid _thwaaap_. Loki was thrown forward onto all fours. But he did not cry out. The caner gave him time for the pain to subside a bit before striking him again, making certain that each hit hurt as much as possible. By the end of ten whacks, his lower back was basically one single red welt. But he did not cry out.

Sigyn looked at the Queen, who had her eyes hidden in a lace handkerchief, crying. She looked at the King, impassive. She looked at Angrboda, who seemed almost excited. She looked out at the audience, silent now, unnerved by Loki’s lack of outcry to what had to be excruciating pain. She wondered why no one cried out for this nightmare to end. Why didn’t she? What did it say about her that she just stood there, passive, and let this atrocity occur, legal or not?

“Please,” she heard someone say. They sounded very far away. “Stop this. Can’t you see how much you’re hurting him? He’s been through enough. Stop this, please, you’re killing him!”

The next thing she knew, she was flying at the King, and guards were pulling her away. “Stop it! Please! You can’t do this! This will break him! He’s not a criminal, he’s sick! He doesn’t need punishment, he needs treatment! He has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder! You’re making it worse!”

“Restrain her,” Odin said, not bothering to look, “but gently, boys – she’s not a danger, just an idealist.”

The guards held her back, and Queen Frigga came to hold her hands. “I sympathize, my dear, believe me, I do. But you just can’t buck the system,” Frigga said, dabbing a tear from her cheek.

“How can you stand here and watch this?” Sigyn said.

“I can’t. My son is being brutalized before my very eyes. I cannot stand it. Nor can I do anything about it. I am helpless. What does your profession say one should do when in a position of zero power?”

Sigyn slumped in the guards’ arms. “Just let go. Sometimes, I’m not certain we have all our shit together, either.”

“When you have eliminated all other avenues of possibility, you are left with only one: just let go, my dear. Accept that there is nothing you can do and move on to the next stage where you will hopefully have a little more ability to affect a positive outcome.”

“Were you ever a healer, Your Majesty?” Sigyn asked, head cocked inquisitively.

Frigga smiled. “No, but I studied to become one, when I was young. It didn’t work out for me.”

“You became Queen of Asgard – odd that you’d phrase it as ‘not working out.’ Most noble goddesses use becoming a healer as the backup plan for when the marriage market ‘doesn’t work out.’”

“Did you?” Frigga said.

“Not exactly.”

“Neither did I. My sister was keen for the marriage market – _I_ wanted to be a healer.”

Sigyn ventured a glance at the stage. “Is it… over yet?” she said.

“No. I’m not certain how many more there are to go, but it will be awhile, I’m guessing. Try not to watch.”


	42. ...................

After the thirtieth blow was struck, Loki rose to his feet without assistance and Angrboda rushed to embrace him.

“You were so brave!” she said. “So strong!” He set her aside very gently, took his tunic back from the guard who held it but did not put it on, and bowed to the crowd. He then turned and saluted Odin, and marched back into the palace.

Where he promptly collapsed just inside the doors.

He was rushed to the Infirmary and awoke after about half an Asgardian hour of unconsciousness, on his side in the hospital bed, with someone rubbing something cool and soothing on his back. He assumed it was Eir, the Royal Healer. He was wrong.

“I’m sorry about today,” Sigyn said as she applied balm to his welts. “I feel like I wished this upon you.”

“How do you figure?” he said, wondering where Eir was and why Sigyn was attending him.

“Because I wanted you to be ‘properly’ punished for your crimes. I didn’t know the truth and I made a lot of assumptions based on hearsay. But no matter what I believed, I _never_ wanted this. I don’t believe in capital punishment. It’s wrong. It’s ungodly.”

“That belief puts you solidly in a minority,” Loki said. “Why are you treating me? What happened to Eir?”

“I asked her if I could look after you. I felt like I needed to do something, after not being able to stop the caning. I almost got arrested, by the way.”

“You _what?”_

“I sort of… attacked… your father. I didn’t know quite what I was doing, I guess. I just felt like I had to do something to stop the flogging. I’ve never felt so powerless in my life. His Majesty let me off but I had to spend the rest of the… the event… under guard. Your mother talked to me about it. She would have made a very good healer.”

“Where is Angrboda? How does _she_ feel right now?”

“Angrboda is resting. When she found out you’d collapsed she went into hysterics and had to be sedated. She seems very fond of you.”

“Still making the push for me to choose Angrboda.”

“I’m just saying, it seems genuine enough. Your son… wants to see you, but your mother is keeping him company until you’re discharged. I felt you’d rather.”

“Thank you. I don’t want him to see this.”

“I have to wonder… why your father sentenced you while your brother was off-realm. It seems convenient, somehow.”

“Don’t read anything into it. Father acts as soon as he makes up his mind. Thor being gone is a coincidence.”

“Still, if anyone would have stopped it from happening.”

“Even Thor has no power to stop Father.”

“I think… your father is more devious than you give him credit for. You could perhaps learn something from him, Trickster.”

Loki laughed outright. “You think I have not? You think I came by my deviousness naturally? The penchant, perhaps, but the skills? No, those I learned at Odin’s knee.”

“Then why do you trust him?” Sigyn said.

“I don’t. But he is King, and my father. I have little choice but to follow. You would not have me foment revolution.”

She was silent. “Would you?” he said. More silence. “Odin is a good king. Why would I depose him… now that I’m not out for my own selfish reasons?”

“You shouldn’t. I’m just not so certain anymore that Odin is a good king.”

“He is. Look – a realm is only as good as its people, right? But the happiness of the people depends very strongly on the management of their leaders. Asgard’s people are happy, yes? Odin is a good king.”

“He is cruel.”

“Look, I don’t know where he stands on the whole capital punishment issue, I really don’t, but I know he didn’t _want_ to cane me. But it gave me a chance to regain some of the people’s respect, and I thank him for it.”

_“Respect?”_

“The whole of the bloody city saw me take thirty strikes. There may have been tears in my eyes but I didn’t cry out. And I walked away at the end with my head held high.”

“And collapsed as soon as no one could see you!”

“Yes, but that’s the point – no one could see me. Hopefully, by now everyone is telling everyone else how I took it like a god.”

Sigyn bit her lip. “I don’t believe in violence, and ancestors know you’ve been hurt badly enough today, but I would very much like to hit you right now,” she said.

“For what?” Loki said, sounding genuinely surprised.

“For being a boneheaded male. You’re all obsessed with honor and respect and appearances.”

“And women aren’t obsessed with those same things? How long did it take you to pin up your hair this morning, my lady? It’s very well-tamed considering how curly it is. And exactly why did you agree to be paraded before me like prize livestock in the farmer’s markets for this marriage arrangement? I’m guessing some novel idea of respect and honor, am I right? Probably your family’s.”

She sat back and breathed a few deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. “I… yes, I suppose I did,” she said. “If you must know the truth, my family is on the verge of bankruptcy. My marriage to you would save them from having to sell the last piece of land we own.”

“And being commensurately humiliated and lose all respect and honor as nobility,” Loki said.

“Yes.”

“So you would agree with me, then, wouldn’t you, that the Pride Bone, that keeps the back straight, the neck stiff, and the chin up in trying times, is genderless?”

“Yes.”

“So glad we understand each other. Are you done slathering that stuff on me? I feel like I’m ready for baking now.”

“You complain, but does your back hurt?” she said.

“No.”

“That’s because of the balm.”

“Does it have to be so greasy?”

“Says the man with a pound of grease in his hair.”

“Not this again. I told you – I’m taming the _fleuff.”_

“And I happen to think you’d look just fine with a little… _fleuff.”_

Loki was silent for a moment and then said, “Do you… think I look all right? Fleuff or no fleuff? I mean, Asgardian goddesses think I’m ugly, but you’re from Vanaheim, you have a different set of perceptions.”

“I don’t consider looks a high priority, my Prince,” she said.

“So you think I’m ugly then,” he said.

“No! I think you’re quite handsome, actually, or would be if you’d cut down on the pomade. I just don’t find it the first, most important thing about you.”

“What is, then?”

“Well, personality is a big concern.”

“And mine is bad?”

“No, I just don’t think yours and mine could ever coexist in a family setting. You love fun times and I’m much more settled.”

“What if I told you I don’t love fun times as much as everyone thinks?”

She laughed briefly. “You’re the god of mischief, I’d find that hard to believe.”

“I like humor. I like jokes. But I don’t like parties, or drinking, or loud noises, or crowded places. To be honest, my favorite thing in the world is a warm fire, a comfortable chair, a hot drink, and a good book.”

“That’s… pretty much my favorite thing in the world, too,” she said slowly.

“I used pranks and humor as my means of joining peer groups I otherwise had no chance of fitting in with,” he said, more than a little dismally. “It didn’t get any easier as I got older.”

“I could see that. I had a hard time fitting in, myself. I assume this was here at home, and not at school.”

“Yes. There’s no making friends at school as such when you’re in the Battlemage program. You’re not really even allowed to speak to each other. _Definitely_ no pranks or jokes.”

“So you had all this pent-up energy from while you were away at school, lonely and scared and unable to release it in any way, and you found vent at home in jokes and mischief.”

“Must you psychoanalyze every least detail of my life?”

“Most of your life appears to have been pretty traumatizing.”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed it, my dear, we are no longer at the Sanitarium, and I am no longer your patient. If I were to lose my mind and choose you, is this what I could expect from you over the course of eternity?”

“A healer is a caretaker, and so is a wife. If we were married, I would take care of you. To the best of my ability.”

“Well we shouldn’t have to worry about that,” Loki said. “Someone hand me my tunic.” And he got up, against Sigyn’s strenuous objections, and left the Infirmary, pulling on his shirt as he went.


	43. ...................

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The notion that Loki sleeps like an octopus comes from a comment by "V" to a Pinterest post about Avengers' sleep styles. I also have to wonder where Judah was during the dark and grownup discussion between Loki and Phil at the end of this chapter.

Frigga rose as he walked into her sitting room. “They let you out of the Infirmary already? Why, that’s… that’s wonderful, dear,” she said, after a glance at Judah.

“I’m fine, Mother,” Loki said, and kissed her on the cheek. “Judah – I thought perhaps we might go see Uncle Phil. How would you like that?”

Judah hopped to his feet. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Are you coming back?” Frigga said, brow furrowed with worry.

“Of course, Mother. I just need to put some distance between myself and this day.”

“Well, you could hardly put more, I suppose.”

Loki held out his arm and Judah ran to him. “Well, let’s go. Can’t promise you we’ll see him, though – I don’t actually know what time of day it is on Midgard. He might not be up. And he could always be on assignment.”

“Just going back home is enough,” Judah said fervently. “Getting to see Uncle Phil will be extra.”

“You really don’t like Asgard, Judah?” Frigga said.

Judah looked back at her and shrugged. “I don’t know. It hasn’t seemed very nice so far. I love you, Gramma, I really do. But it seems like everyone here is out to get Daddy.”

“You know that’s just not true, don’t you?” Frigga said.

“No, it isn’t, Judah,” Loki said.

“I heard the crowds. Calling for you to get beaten. They hate you. They don’t even know you, but they hate you. All because of something you did that doesn’t even affect them.”

“You can’t say it doesn’t affect them, Judah – my treason made me their King.”

“Were you a bad king? Did anything you did hurt them?” Judah challenged.

“I tried to kill off an entire race of people. People they hate and would happily kill off themselves, but it was still wrong.”

_“Then they’re just as guilty as you were!”_ Judah said. “They created the hate you acted on!”

Loki grinned. He couldn’t help it. He smoothed back Judah’s curls. “You surprise me, sometimes, with just how smart you are. But you’re wrong, in this instance. No one is to blame but me, Judah. I am responsible for my own actions.”

“You don’t know how good it is to hear you say that, my boy,” Frigga said. “Even though the actions in question still hurt me in my heart, and especially the consequences.”

“I’m slowly coming to an acceptance of maturity, Mother,” Loki said. “It still does not come easily for me.”

Frigga gave Judah a hug, then hugged Loki. “Go and enjoy your visit to your friends on Midgard. Come home feeling better, I pray. Both of you. I know it may not seem so thus far, but we really enjoy your presence here – both of you.”

Loki bowed to his mother and kissed her again, then took Judah to the flyer hanger and treated Judah to his first ride on the small, open-air aircraft that Asgardians used for personal transport, which he quite enjoyed. It took them swiftly from the palace along the Rainbow Mile to the Observatory, where they debarked and entered. Heimdall greeted them as he always would until the day his time as Gatekeeper ended.

“I honestly thought you would never return to Midgard, my Prince,” he said, not sounding too surprised about it. “Should you be leaving the realm while Prince Thor is away?”

“I won’t be gone long,” Loki said. “You’ll keep an eye on things here and warn me if anything goes wrong, won’t you?”

Heimdall nodded slowly. “Of course.”

“Besides, what exactly would _I_ be able to do if Thanos _did_ attack?”

“You did quite well against Malekith and Hela.”

“Malekith almost killed me, and Hela didn’t have an army at the time.”

Heimdall didn’t answer, he just opened the Bifrost. Loki took hold of Judah and together they stepped into the beam. They were shot through space at super-light speeds and deposited on the Quinjet platform on Stark Tower. Tony took off his sunglasses and came outside to greet them.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” he said. “You going to break my window again?”

“Probably not,” Loki said. “Is Coulson around?”

“That’s all you have to say after all this time? ‘Is Coulson around?’ Really?”

“What do you want me to say?” Loki said.

“How about, ‘Hi, Tony, how have you been? Sorry I broke your window before I left!’”

“You know, in the timeline that didn’t happen this go-round, I tossed you out of that very window to the ground many stories below – shall we reenact that happenstance?”

Tony raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “All right, all right, enough about the window. You really came back just to see Phil?”

“More or less.”

“Well I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you. I think he’s in his apartment. Want me to call him?”

“I think we’ll surprise him,” Loki said.

“How? I mean, you’re not going to come up behind him and jam a spear through his chest, are you? ‘Cause even if it were an illusion, that wouldn’t be cool, man.”

“Give me credit for a bit of subtlety. Come along, Judah.”

They headed for the elevator and got off at Coulson’s floor. At the door of Coulson’s apartment they stopped, and Loki cautioned Judah to silence. He tried the knob. Locked.

“Only use what I am about to show you in the direst of circumstances, or the most imperative of mischief,” Loki said quietly, and cracked the high-security lock in a heartbeat.

“How did you do that?” Judah said, trying not to cry out.

“People like to think they are tricky, but they always fall for familiarity,” Loki said. “Coulson’s security code is his ex-girlfriend’s birthdate. It’s sad, really. Come on, inside. Quietly now.”

“What are you going to do?” Judah asked.

“Shh. You’ll see.”

In the sunken living room, they could see Coulson sitting watching TV with the sound turned low. He had his suit jacket off, his dress shirt off, he was sitting in a plain white undershirt. His shoulder harness was on the couch next to him. Loki spied a heavy glass vase sitting on the nearby sideboard and reached out to purposely knock it over. Phil looked up at the sound, then reached for his weapon. Loki cautioned Judah to silence and cast a shroud of invisibility over him. Then he turned into a black tom cat and jumped up on the railing separating the living room from the upper area. He mewed at the nervous Agent.

Phil checked his weapon. “Hey, kitty, how’d you get in here, eh? Where’d you come from?” He scratched behind the cat’s ears. Loki purred appreciatively, then…

“Oo, yeah, baby, Loki like.”

Phil jumped back like he’d touched something hot. “Loki! I should have known.”

Suddenly it was Loki sitting there, balanced perfectly on the narrow railing, grinning a Cheshire grin at him, in full battle regalia. “Yes, darling, you really should have,” he said.

“What are you doing here? I really didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

“Judah missed you, and Midgard, and… well, I thought I could use a break from Asgardian politics myself.”

“There a story in that?”

“Ah, rather, I suppose. My father is forcing me to get married. You know, standard royal arrangement.”

“Wow. He sprang that on you fast. I mean, it’s been awhile down here, but… not much time has passed… _up there_ , right?”

“Asgard is more ‘out’ there than ‘up’ there, positionally, but yes, not a whole lot of time has passed since you left us, on our side of things. Apparently he was planning it from the very start. My visit to the Sanitarium was a veiled attempt to give my prospective brides a chance to get to know my… aches and pains, I suppose.”

“Where is Judah?” Phil said. “How does he feel about all this?”

“Oh goodness, he’s still invisible.” Loki jumped down from the railing and cut the shroud covering the boy. “Judah, come give your uncle a hug.”

Phil hugged Judah, then gave Loki a look. “Did I hear you right? _Brides?”_

“I have my choice between two. One is half frost giant, like me. She’s wonderful and understanding, and she likes to have fun.”

“Sounds perfect for you.”

Loki nodded. “Mm. Unfortunately, the ‘fun’ she likes to have is not exactly my idea of fun, it’s bars and crowds and loud noises. She also seems to have some issue with the fact that I’m raising a child. Just what that issue is I am not quite certain, but she hasn’t been terribly warm toward Judah as of yet.”

“Okay. What’s the other one like, then?”

“A born psychologist. She can’t miss an opportunity to ask me how this or that makes me _feel._ She’s very good with Judah, though.”

“But you resent being constantly analyzed.”

“Rather.”

“So you’re going to go with the party girl?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. More than ever, I just want to take Judah and make for the hills, but I honestly don’t know where to go. Now that he’s immortal, he’ll never survive here on Midgard. The days are too short for his energy supply, and when he needs sleep, the nights are too short for him to get enough rest.”

“You managed.”

“I’m a grownup. Judah labors under the stresses of still growing. And believe me, it wasn’t easy for _me_ to deal with the short sleep schedule. Hence the advanced coffee intake in the mornings.”

Phil nodded. “When Thor stays here, he drinks a lot of coffee, too.”

“Thor can sleep anywhere, at any time of day. He just likes coffee.”

“Yeah, I’ve found him lounging in unexpected places. Does he _have_ to sleep naked?”

“It’s pretty standard in Asgard.”

“In public areas?”

“No, that’s fairly unique to Thor.”

“How do _you_ sleep?”

“Like an octopus, curled into the smallest space possible, color-shifted to match my environment.”

“That… fits, actually. That seems perfectly plausible. So what else is going on? Anything?”

“Nothing much,” Loki said.

“Odin beat Daddy,” Judah said. Phil looked at him, then looked at Loki.

“He’s back to calling you Daddy? And what is this about Odin _beating_ you?”

“It’s nothing,” Loki said. “I told him I rather missed the days he called me Daddy so he went back to it.”

“What about the other thing? The beating thing?”

“My sentence for my crimes wasn’t legally binding. Odin had to sentence me to caning to make the people happy.”

“It happened this morning,” Judah said. “I could hear the crowd yelling and screaming. They wanted it to hurt.”

“It was public?”

“Yes,” Loki said.

“Well, that’s unpleasant. Gosh, I… don’t know what to say, here, guys. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Loki, are you all right? I mean, it happened just this morning, you’re not in pain, are you?”

“I’m fine. A brief stint in the Infirmary and I’m up and running.”

“Godly recuperative powers, I guess.”

“Well, we can’t stay long. Thor is off trying to prevent Ragnarok. I promised him I’d keep an eye on Asgard while he’s gone.”

“Maybe you could stay for dinner? I could order takeout for us. Indian, maybe – you always liked that. And a cheeseburger and French fries for Judah. Thank the gods for Grub Hub, right?”

“That sounds great, actually.”

Phil got out his phone and placed an order on his Grub Hub app. He motioned for the two to seat themselves in his living room. “So,” he said. “What do you think you’re going to do? You can’t live in Midgard and Asgard is a hotbed… where can you go?”

“I don’t think there’s anywhere we can go,” Loki said. “Vanaheim remains a possibility, but I don’t know enough about it. Everything I’ve heard suggests it’s a terrible place, but I just don’t know. I still haven’t asked Mother what she thinks of the idea. She’s from Vanaheim, so she should know the truth of what it’s like there.”

“You have family there, right? Her family?”

“An aunt and uncle – well, her sister and brother, they’re not really my aunt and uncle, and I’ve never actually met them so I probably shouldn’t call them that. Especially since their relationship with Mother seems to be… _strained,_ at best. Freya is the de facto ruler of Vanaheim since her husband King Odr ran off some years back, and Freyr, her twin is… well… she’s trying to marry him. Odin is making every effort possible to block the marriage, but with Vanaheim being only a protectorate of Asgard, he doesn’t have infinite power to stop her from doing whatever she wishes. Odin can really only point out that there’s no proof that Odr is dead and never coming back to reclaim his throne.”

“Heimdall can’t find him?”

Loki shook his head. “There are ways to hide yourself from Heimdall’s eye. It would seem that King Odr knows of at least one of them.”

“So you have no relationship with your mother’s family at all. You can’t depend on them for help?”

“You heard what I said about my aunt banging my uncle. You think I _want_ to seek help from them?”

Phil shrugged. “Yeah, well, I kinda thought as much, but where royalty is concerned, you never know exactly how that kind of thing is viewed, you know?”

Loki sighed. “It is unfortunately quite acceptable, if not exactly desirable. Until we ‘widened the breeding pool’ by going off-realm for marriage prospects, extra fingers and toes was considered a sign of Asgardian royalty. Even now we’re woefully inbred. It takes a lot of generations for that kind of damage to be undone, and generations happen slowly in Asgard. I’m probably the product of a similarly inbred breeding program. Perhaps worse – Jotunheim is even more isolated than Asgard. My only salvation may come from the fact that my mother was an off-world captive.”

“Do you know who she was?” Phil said.

“No. Angrboda – one of the ladies I’m meant to choose from, the half-frost giant – said she was likely from Vanaheim, captured by Laufey when he conquered much of that land, as her mother was. After all, I am a god. That had to come from somewhere. It makes more sense than the theory _I_ had to explain the phenomenon, even though it is the accepted theory for how gods evolved from giants in the first place.”

“Heimdall would have seen her, wouldn’t he?” Phil said.

Loki shook his head. “I was born when Heimdall was but a boy in school. While I am sure he saw the event, he would not have known to pay attention to it. I certainly couldn’t expect him to recall it now.”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask. If you want to know, that is.”

“I don’t know what good it would do me.”

“You’d know.”

“I’d know she probably died a frost giant slave.”

“No, that’s what you _think._ Heimdall can help you _know.”_

“If it was good news don’t you think he might have told me?”

“Is he in the habit of volunteering information?” Phil said.

“N-no,” Loki said.

“Then _ask_ him.”

“And what do I do with this information when I have it?” Loki said, determined to be obstinate.

“Heal. It’s eating you up inside, not knowing who she was or what happened to her. Your half-frost giant lady somehow got away, right? Maybe your mother did, too. Maybe she’s out there somewhere right now, wishing she knew what happened to you.”

“Hmph. I don’t really believe _that.”_

“But you _want_ to.”

“And if that desire is shattered?”

“Then at least you’ll know the truth.”

“And if I find out she is alive and wants nothing to do with the offspring of a horrible savage rape?”

Phil let out a breath through his nose. “That is a possibility. But you’ve got to try, right?”

Loki threw up his hands. “I don’t know. I have a mother, she’s been everything to me. Do I need another?”

“Maybe your mother needs you,” Phil said. “I mean, think about it – she _could_ still be a prisoner.”

Loki looked at him as one would look at a crazy person. “She couldn’t be. She would never survive so long.”

“She’s a goddess, right? That means she’s probably pretty damned tough.”

Loki’s eyes grew wide. He sat down heavily. “Laufey is dead, I killed him myself,” he said. “If she was still his captive, who knows what would have happened to her after that. I have no idea how frost giants deal with the dispensation of a dead king’s… property. I don’t even know if Laufey had any legitimate heirs.”

“You guys don’t keep track of enemy governance?” Phil said.

Loki scratched the back of his head. “Well, I… kind of left them pretty broken not that long ago, they’re kind of in a shambles right now. Don’t know what’s going on over there at the moment with the rebuilding efforts, just know they definitely don’t want any assistance from us. Odin offered. They told him to go to Helheim.”

“You know, if Laufey _has_ any legitimate heirs, they’re like, your brothers and sisters,” Phil pointed out.

“I don’t think there’s any family feeling there,” Loki said, delicately.

“How do you know? They might want to meet you.”

“My father abandoned me to die alone because I was not what he wanted in a son, whatever what he wanted may have been. I doubt any children that he did keep will have any better mindset about castoffs. And why would I want to associate myself with them?”

“Just because your father was a bad guy doesn’t automatically mean his kids are, too. If you manage to develop a friendly relationship with his heirs, that could mean peace between Asgard and Jotunheim, couldn’t it?”

“Phil – I’m the one who unleashed the Bifrost upon them, killing thousands of their people and destroying much of their already destroyed planet. They won’t want to be friendly with _me.”_

“Oh. Good point,” Phil said.


	44. ...................

When the food arrived the trio turned their attention to lighter discussion – talk shifted to Judah's schoolwork, and how he was learning Asgardian now. After the meal ended, they said their goodbyes and headed back to Asgard. Though he wasn't entirely certain he should, Loki paused a moment to speak to Heimdall, in a low voice that he hoped Judah would not hear.

"Heimdall… you saw my birth on Jotunheim. Do you remember it?"

Heimdall gave him the strangest look he had perhaps ever given anyone in his life. "I know what you discussed with your mortal friend, my Prince, but I cannot tell you what you wish to know. Please do not ask me."

"Cannot or will not?"

"Cannot. Will you wait for your brother? He should be on his way soon."

"He's coming back now?"

"He's a bit tied up at the moment, but I foresee he will deal with the problem shortly."

Loki paused. "Did you just make a joke? 'Tied up?' Is he literally tied up somewhere?"

"I am not allowed to have a sense of humor?" Heimdall said blandly.

"You've never had one before now."

Loki and Judah waited with Heimdall while the Gatekeeper watched Thor's progress on the Surtur front from afar, not knowing what he was seeing, just trusting his word that it wouldn't be long before Thor wrapped up whatever he was doing and came flying home. Eventually, Heimdall unsheathed his sword.

"You might want to stand well back," he said.

"Why?" Loki said.

"You'll see," Heimdall said. Loki pulled Judah back to the very furthest edge of the Observatory. Heimdall opened the bridge and in a moment Thor came flying through, pulled even faster than the bridge allowed for by Mjolnir.

" _Close it!"_ he shouted, just as a huge reptilian head came through behind him, snapping its jaws. Heimdall didn't need to be told. He pulled the sword and the bridge closed, slicing the dragon's head off in a spurt of hot blood.

"Whoa… is that a _real dragon?_ Is it dead? I'm sorry, that's a stupid question. It got its head cut off."

"It's actually a pretty _good_ question, Judah," Loki said, cautiously approaching. "Dragons are even harder to kill than gods, and gods don't necessarily die when they're beheaded."

"Looks pretty dead to me, Brother," Thor said, wiping gore off his face with the back of his hammer arm.

"You know what they say about dragons, Brother," Loki said, stretching out one leg to gently rock the head with his foot, as if to check it for reaction. "Even when they're dead, they're still lively. A week, a year, a millennium, and they'll come back, no matter how dead they seem to be."

"Point well taken. Perhaps, Heimdall, you could drop this relic off on some distant, uninhabited planet?" Thor said.

Heimdall nodded. "Of course."

Thor slung his arm over Loki's shoulders, transferring a good deal of dragon blood to his impeccable clothes. Loki grimaced but said nothing. "Come, Brother – I have the Crown of Surtur and the threat of Ragnarok is behind us. A celebration is in order!"

"I'm not taking my son to a tavern," Loki said. "And you're a mess."

"Come on," Thor wheedled. "The boy has to come to a tavern sometime."

"I'm all taverned out," Loki said. "But don't let me stop you. I'm sure Sif and the Imbeciles Three will be glad to join you."

Thor looked at him in concern. "Are you all right? What's wrong, Brother? Why were you even here waiting for me?"

"Heimdall told us you were coming."

"You don't seem glad to see me."

"Am I ever glad to see you?"

"Then why bother to come all this way to greet me?"

Loki threw off Thor's arm. "We just got here ourselves, all right? We were on Midgard, visiting Coulson."

Thor sighed. "Brother, I told you to keep an eye on things."

"Heimdall was on watch, he would have warned me if anything happened. And we were only gone a short time."

"That's not the point. The point is your habitual unreliability."

" _Stop it stop it stop it stop it!"_ Judah shouted, crouching down and putting his hands over his ears. _"Everybody just stop picking on my Dad!"_

Loki knelt down and put his arms around Judah. Thor looked down at them and asked, "Is there a story behind that?"

"Judah isn't adjusting well to Asgardian politics."

"So I see. Anything in particular about them that I should know?"

"No."

"Hmm."

Loki picked Judah up and carried him all the way along the Rainbow Mile to Odinhall. Thor walked with them. Despite his calling for a celebration at the Observatory, he seemed rather down about something. He tried at several points to say something, but kept changing his mind. At the palace they went their separate ways in the throne room – Loki and Judah to the common area, Thor to the relic vault to secure the Crown of Surtur. Despite the fact that his back was beginning to pain him again, Loki cheered Judah by playing with him for a few hours before tucking him in to bed for the night. Then, he changed into his sleepclothes and sat on the edge of his bed, grappling with pain like fire in his lower back and the terror he'd been fighting down all day. It didn't take very long until he just couldn't take it anymore.

He expected a late-night visitor. He expected Judah. What he got was Thor.

"Brother? Can we talk?" Thor said, peering around the door into the darkened room.

Loki stood up from the bed, now dressed in full armor. He lit the lamps. "What troubles you?" he said.

"What are you doing fully dressed so late at night?" Thor asked.

"Couldn't sleep. Thought about going for a walk. Pray, continue."

Thor had been fooled by Loki many times. He walked up to his brother and poked him in the shoulder.

"Ouch," Loki said, and rubbed the spot.

"You're… real," Thor said. "That's almost a surprise."

"What, did you think I was off performing some evil chicanery while pretending to be safely in my room?" Loki said.

"With you? I'm never certain," Thor said. "Anyway, I… er… wanted to talk to you about… Jane."

"Have a seat. What about Jane?"

Thor perched on the end of Loki's bed. "I was very, um… excited… by your gift of the epli, so before I went to deal with Surtur I took the Bifrost to visit Jane on Midgard. I told her about it and asked her to eat it."

"And?"

"And she refused."

"Why?"

"She said mortals aren't meant to live forever. She said she'd go insane if she had to try and find some way of filling a life as long as mine. I told her to consider everything she could discover over such a lifespan, everything she could accomplish, but she said she couldn't do it on Earth, and it had all already been discovered in Asgard, so what was the point? I told her she was wrong, there was still much left to discover, but she said she was so far behind in learning she could never catch up. And she didn't want to try."

"Well, that was rather shortsighted of her," Loki said. "What are you going to do?"

"What can I do?" Thor said. "There's nothing more to be said. We… we broke up."

"I'm sorry."

Thor looked miserably at his feet. "I suppose it was very foolish to fall in love with a mortal in the first place, but she was so unlike any goddess I have ever met. She stood upon no concept of ceremony, you know? And yet she was still so very kind."

"There are goddesses like that," Loki said, thinking that both Angrboda and Sigyn rather fit the bill, even if he found the both of them annoying for different reasons. "You've always just been surrounded by shameless gold diggers. And Lady Sif, who stands upon no concept of ceremony but isn't exactly all that kind."

"She would be kinder if you hadn't shaved her head and replaced her hair with 'strands of nothing,' Brother," Thor pointed out.

"She wasn't kind before, so I refute your hypothesis," Loki said. "She was chief of my tormentors when we were small."

Thor winced. "I'm… sorry. I forgot about that. She used to tease you for having black hair, didn't she?"

"Nice that one of us can forget."

Thor frowned down at his feet again. "Anyway, I was feeling down, and I think maybe you are, too, so I brought something to help cheer us up, for a moment at least."

"Not alcohol, Brother," Loki said, rolling his eyes. "It's actually a depressant. You'll only feel worse in the end."

"No, not alcohol," Thor said. He took something out of his belt pouch. It was a root. Asrelle root. He held it in both hands, preparing to break it.

" _Don't do that!"_ Loki said. Thor snapped the root in two. A sneeze sounded from the bottom of the wardrobe nearby. "Shit," Loki said, and vanished.

The blissful expression that immediately woke on Thor's face as the smell of the broken root filled his senses vanished just as swiftly. He stood up and went to the wardrobe, from which several more sneezes sounded. He opened the door. Loki, dressed in his sleepclothes, huddled at the bottom, and he looked terrible – pale, shaky, and drenched in sweat. He sneezed again, but it was not allergies that made him look so miserable.

"Brother – what is wrong? What put you in such a state?"

"I'm fine," Loki said, in a small, trembling voice that was not at all convincing.

"You are _not_ fine. Now I want to know, and I want no prevarication _– what happened?"_

Loki shook his head. Thor knelt down next to him and took him by the shoulders. "Brother. Tell me."

"Sentence," Loki gasped out.

"What sentence?" Thor said.

"Mine."

"What did Father do to you?" Thor said.

Loki shook his head. "I told him to do it."

"After he said he was going to one way or another, I'd wager. What did he do?"

"Public flogging."

Thor's jaw dropped. "He put you to the cane? After all you've been through? He actually did _that?"_

"Better than life in prison."

"You're huddled in a panic at the bottom of a closet and you think this is _better?"_

"This way, I still get to be with Judah. I'll be all right, Brother. It's just… my back hurts, and it makes me think of… of things better forgotten."

"Maybe you should be in the Infirmary."

"No, I'll be fine."

"Don't be stubborn, Brother."

"It's my strongest defining character trait, Brother, I cannot help it."

Thor sat flat on his ass and put an arm around Loki's shoulders. "Then I shall sit with you, Brother, until you 'pull yourself together.' We shall get through this. Together."


	45. ...................

Early morning sunlight peered through the window and reached out to touch Thor where he still sat beside the open wardrobe.

“It’s morning, Brother,” he said, quietly. “Are you feeling any more together?”

Loki had his arms folded across his drawn-up knees. He raised his head from them. He still looked pale and absolutely exhausted, but he was no longer sweaty and he seemed composed.

“I’m fine, Brother. Your concern and support has been humiliating, but… welcome.”

“We’re brothers. We’ve got each other’s backs,” Thor said. “Or at least that’s how it should be.”

“I’m sorry that it hasn’t been that way of late,” Loki said.

“I more than played my part,” Thor said. “I’ve been thinking about it – you had started to think there was something… frost gianty… going on with you by the time we got back from Jotunheim. After what I said to father about making the frost giants fear me, you must have been afraid that I would turn on you if I found out.”

“It… didn’t make me feel like you’d be forgiving me for getting you exiled, that much is true.”

Thor gave him a sidearm hug. “You’re my brother. I don’t care where you come from or who your real father was. We’ve shared almost our whole lives together – _your_ whole life. We’ve shared adventures. What we have is more than blood, it’s _family._ And yes, you did stab me in the back at the coronation, but I guess I understand why you did it. If I had taken the throne at that point it would have been disastrous for Asgard. I admit that now. Getting exiled was a real eye-opener. On that count I… guess I owe you.”

Loki snorted. “Strange thing to owe someone for, and I think I’ve caused enough shit to more than make up for any benefit.”

“True. We’ll call it even, then. Getting exiled was a growth experience for me, but I’ve seen signs of growth in you, too. Where did the change come in? Judah? Or just getting your ass handed to you by the Avengers?”

Loki nodded slowly. “I’ve had to do a lot of changing for Judah, or try to at any rate, but… I _wanted_ to change because… of what I saw.”

“You mean the future timeline? Ragnarok and all that? How _did_ you see that anyway?”

Loki shook his head. “I cannot answer your question, Brother.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“Either or. Both.”

“Fine, keep your secrets. You’re just like mother. It’s a wonder you’re not her real son. Honestly, you have all her powers. How do you think that happened, anyway? Do you think she gave them to you?”

Loki shrugged. “When I found out I was a frost giant I thought it might be so, but now I wonder. Odin claimed I was born with powers. Why then would she give me more? I have it from… a reliable source… that the frost giants took Vanir goddesses captive. Of course if he gave them to his Generals Laufey would certainly keep a few for himself. My mother almost certainly must have been one of them.”

“That might explain why you look more Vanir than Aesir – in your god form,” Thor added quickly.

“’In my god form,’” Loki mocked. “Like you’ve seen me in my frost giant form. I’ve got news for you – I still look remarkably Vanir. I have hair and everything.”

“But you’re, like, _blue,_ right?” Thor said.

“Yes. I am, like, blue.”

“You… gonna come out of the closet now? Judah might be getting up soon. He’s going to wonder what the Helheim we’re up to.”

Loki began to unfold. “Yeah.”

Thor got up and helped Loki out of the wardrobe. He dusted his brother off – a little more roughly than he needed to, but that was Thor. “Clean yourself up, Brother; you look like a hard night spent at the bottom of a bottle and you didn’t take a sip. I’ll see you at breakfast. I _will_ see you at breakfast, right?”

Loki nodded. “You will.”

“Good. I guess this night puts _my_ heartbreak into perspective.”

“Pain is pain, Brother,” Loki said quietly. “It doesn’t matter how it derives, or even how much there is. If you need me, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, Brother. But I should not burden you with my petty troubles. You have to bear up under enough.”

“We’re brothers. Your troubles are my troubles.”

“By that logic, your secrets would be my secrets, but we know _that’s_ not true.”

“I’d tell you if I could, Brother, but too much would be affected.”

“Are you going to be all right today? How does your back feel?” Thor asked.

“It’s fine. Better, anyway. I’ll be all right.”

“I can’t believe Eir did not prescribe some kind of pain reliever.”

“She might have, if I had stayed in the Infirmary long enough. I… left in rather a hurry.”

_“Brother!”_

Loki flinched. Thor winced. “I’m sorry I shouted, Brother, but you really are too much sometimes. Go back, tell Eir you’re an idiot, and get her to give you something for the pain. Don’t be proud.”

“Eir wasn’t the one who had the caring of me. That’s why I left.”

“Who then did?” Thor said, puzzled.

“Lady Sigyn, one of my fiancées. She applied some balm, and we got into a bit of a spat.”

Thor sighed. “That’s you, Loki – making friends and influencing people, everywhere you go.”

“If she didn’t continually try to analyze my mind and motivations, I would have gotten angry.”

“Maybe your mind and motivations require a bit of analysis,” Thor said. “They’ve always been rather inscrutable to me.”

“Would you like to be constantly under scrutiny?”

“No, I wouldn’t. But Brother, she’s a Healer, it comes rather naturally to her to act that way. And you, whether you like to admit it or not, are someone in a lot of pain. Of course she wants to help you.”

Loki made a head motion that suggested he saw Thor’s point, but his facial expression still said he didn’t like it one bit. “I get it, but I don’t want to be married to it,” he said.

“Well I can’t blame you for that. Still, she could be good for you, assuming she toned it down a little.”

“She’d have to tone it down a lot, and she as much as said she had no intention of doing so.”

“Well, hit the showers, cool off, clean up – you’ll feel better when you look more yourself. I know you can’t say ‘put it behind you’ to someone with PTSD, but… try to put what went wrong between you and the lady behind you, eh? Even if you don’t choose her. It wouldn’t hurt to be nice to her in the meanwhile.”

“I will. Be nice to her, at least.”

Thor looked at him critically, at though he doubted Loki’s sincerity, or at least his definition of the term “nice,” but he let it go. He clapped his brother on the shoulder and headed for the door. “I will see you at the breakfast table,” he said again. “I hope you have a good appetite. I, personally, am ravenous.”

“You’re always ravenous,” Loki called after him. He stood where he was for a moment as though uncertain of what to do next, then headed for the bathroom to shower and change.


	46. ...................

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before you start hollering, I know this is not canon, either in the comics or the mythology. But the movies set it up perfectly so I had to use it.

Loki spent the day with Judah and Frigga and Thor, trying to convince all three of them that he was fine, and he was better, but something was on his mind and it wasn’t the terrors of the night. So even though he was very tired from a long night of not sleeping, and a longer day of pretending all was well, after he tucked Judah into bed he slipped out of the palace under cover of a special shroud of invisibility that not even Heimdall’s eye could breach, to one of the secret dimensional rifts only his special eyes could see. For the first time in his life, he voluntarily changed into frost giant form, cloaked himself in an illusion of frost giant clothing – or lack thereof, as they generally wore very little – and passed through the boundary from Asgard to Jotunheim.

The palace of Utgard was partially destroyed during Laufey’s push fifteen hundred years prior, and had never been rebuilt. Now it was completely razed, and a collection of crude, hastily-constructed ice-built huts stood where it had been. Loki moved cautiously among them. It was even later here than it had been in Asgard, so few were about, but where there was a King, there were guards, and while he was still invisible to Heimdall’s eye, he had cut the illusion that rendered him invisible to any other eye. He wanted to be found.

A pair of guards were standing outside the largest crude hut. Loki walked right up to them. They eyed him suspiciously but did not say anything or move. “Pardon me,” he said. He had never heard a word of Jotun in his life, but that did not matter – he had the Dragon Tongue, and could speak any language, whether he “knew” it or not. Flawlessly, without accent. “Is this the location of Utgard? I am from the provinces, and have come to pay homage to the new King.”

“There is no Utgard any longer,” one of the guards grunted. “What provincial hole did you crawl out of?”

“Oh I know the palace was destroyed,” Loki said. “But this is where it stood, yes? This is where His Majesty lives.”

“You’re not going to see him in the middle of the night, so go away, Outlander.”

“What’s going on out there?”

The guards looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “Nothing, Prince Byleistr. Just some provincial fool come here in the dead of night looking to pay homage to His Majesty.”

“Well we’re awake now, send him in.”

The guards shook their heads and let him pass. Loki went inside. He held his head high, even though they glared down at him. At only six feet, two inches, he was less than half as tall as the guards. Plus, he had hair. So they knew _something_ was off about him.

“No funny business, Little One,” one of the guards said in a low voice as he passed.

Two frost giants sat inside the hut, one on an ice-built chair that probably passed for a throne, the other on the floor at his feet. The rumpled condition of the two rather rough beds that made up the only other furniture suggested they had both just risen from sleep. Loki stopped before them and bowed, wondering if one or both of them was Laufey’s offspring. When he came back up he noticed something odd about the King. He was looking at the air over his head, not at him. Not altogether out of the question for a King to refuse to look at a lowly subject, but Loki rather thought there was another reason.

The new king of the frost giants was blind.

“Greetings, Outlander,” the one on the floor said. “You stand before Helblindi, Eldest of Laufey, Rightful King of Jotunheim.”

Loki bowed. “I am honored, your Majesty.”

The blind king turned his head toward the one on the floor and said, “His voice sounds low to the floor. Is he seated?”

“No, my Brother, he is very short.”

“Short?”

“It is so, Your Majesty,” Loki said. “I have hair, also. It has caused me much strife. My mother was a Vanir goddess taken during the war. I never knew her.”

“Ah, yes. There are a few such offspring, although most look one way or the other. Our father, King Laufey, tried hard to achieve a god child. He did not succeed.”

“What did he want with such a child? If you do not mind my asking, oh glorious King,” Loki said.

The blind king shrugged. “He felt that the future of Jotunheim’s strength in the universe depended upon having a god – his son – on the throne.”

“Were there many offspring of this… attempt?”

The one on the floor shook his head. “Only one successful birth. The child was born a frost giant, but small, as you are. Father was… disappointed, to put it mildly.”

“The union between frost giant and god is rarely successful,” the King said. “You are truly a rarity, young man.”

“What happened to your brother? The one in which His Majesty King Laufey was disappointed?” Loki asked.

“He died,” the one on the floor said. “He was abandoned with his mother in the palace to die when the Asgardians attacked.”

_With his mother?!?_ Loki’s head reeled. He pulled himself together and asked, “But the Asgardians would save a goddess, would they not? Perhaps he yet lives.”

Both frost giants laughed. Once they started, it seemed for a time they would not stop. “Where? In Asgard?” the one on the floor said at last. “The Asgardians would not suffer a frost giant to live among them. Unless perhaps they locked him in a cage and charged admission for gawkers to poke sticks at him.”

“I… suppose you are right, Your Highness,” Loki said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. But his mother was definitely left with him?”

“Yes. A shame, really. For a goddess, she was a remarkably kind creature. I suppose the Asgardians rescued her, at least. That is good. It was not right, what father did to those ladies. It does not matter who they were or where they were from. They did not deserve what happened to them.”

“My father did not agree with you,” Loki said.

They shook their heads in unison. “Neither did ours. But Laufey was a bastard. After all, he left his own child to die,” the King said.

“You regret that?”

“We had no power,” the one on the floor said. “We lived in fear of our father all our lives. He avoided all of that, so in a way, we think him lucky – but we lost a brother.”

“Brothers are important,” Loki said, around a sudden lump in his throat. “This goddess, do you know her name?”

The blind king waved a hand in front of her face. “God names all sound the same to me,” he said. “But it started with an F. Frig. Frigga, I think.”

The other nodded. “Yes, that is what it was. She really was very kind. Considering what was happening to her, you wouldn’t have expected her to be. Why are you so interested in her?”

Loki couldn’t see straight. Frigga. His mother was Frigga. It was impossible.

“I don’t know. The idea of having a mother has always fascinated me,” he said, improvising through his clouded thoughts. “I feel I have kept Your Majesties from sleep long enough. You have been most gracious in speaking with me.”

“Return any time,” the King said. “The throne of Jotunheim is an open forum. Just… try to arrive in the daytime, next time.”

Loki bowed, and exited the hut. He did not run back to the dimensional rift leading back to Asgard, but he walked very swiftly. He forgot all about maintaining his shroud. He just had to get back to a place of familiarity quickly before he lost all semblance of sanity.

He shifted back to god form very swiftly as he came face-to-face with Heimdall on the other side of the hidden barrier.

“Did you find the answers you seek?” Heimdall asked, leaning on his sword.

Loki pulled himself up and tried to keep it together. “I found only more questions.”

“Your answers do not lie in Jotunheim, my Prince.”

“That much I now know,” Loki said. “They lie with Odin. And with Frigga.”


	47. ...................

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope I pulled all this together properly, but I honestly don't know why two sane parents would ever do this to their child.

He did not wish to wake his mother up in the middle of the night, but he knew he would know no rest until he had an answer. He went straight to her bedroom and burst through the door with rather more force than he intended. Frigga sat bolt upright and clutched the covers to herself, only relaxing when she recognized his outline against the light from the corridor.

“Loki? My son, what is the matter?” she asked.

“I know,” he said.

“You… know?”

“I know your secret, Mother. I know the truth behind the lies you’ve told me. What I don’t understand is why?”

“I see. How did you find out?” she said.

“I went to Jotunheim. I spoke to my brothers. They remember you fondly.”

“They were good boys. They deserved better than to be raised by that monster. Did they know you?”

“No. They thought I probably died when Odin attacked Utgard. You, they felt, would have been rescued. They were glad of that much.”

She nodded. She patted the mattress beside where she sat. “Well. Have a seat, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

He came into the room and sat down next to her on the bed. “Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth?” he said.

“Two reasons that really boil down to one: Odin commanded that I don’t.”

“What are the other two? Why would he make such a command?”

“To protect my reputation… and to protect Thor.”

“Protect Thor from what?”

“Think about it, my boy. He’s more than two hundred years older than you.”

Loki’s eyes widened. “I just assumed him dim enough not to realize you were never pregnant with me, but it goes beyond that, doesn’t it? You are… are not his mother.”

Frigga shook her head.

“How does he not know?” Loki said. “How does he not know? If you were in Vanaheim before my birth, he never knew you. Mother, he was a _schoolboy_ when I was born.”

“To understand, you have to know the story of Thor’s real mother. Her name was Gaea, she was a Midgardian spirit. The rigors of the throne and of mothering a prince proved to be too much for her, apparently, and she abandoned Odin and Thor when your brother was still quite young. From that day onward, Thor said never a word to anyone. He just… wandered the palace, like a lost child. You can understand, your father was quite worried about him. The healers said he would come out of it in time, but time kept passing, and Thor stayed lost in this place where no one could reach him.”

“And then the war,” Loki said.

Frigga nodded. “Odin found us both in Utgard. You were not with me – Laufey took you from me after your birth, and perhaps it is good for you that he did, because as I saw things you looked like a god baby when you were born. Then either the touch of the midwife triggered the change or perhaps you opened your eyes and saw her, but you changed. And I knew you had power. Laufey had the powerful god child he wanted for his heir.”

“Then why did he abandon me?”

“I can only guess, but I assume he saw you as you appeared to be, a small-sized frost giant infant, and believed you were not what he wanted. If the midwife tried to tell him about your change of appearance I doubt he would have heard her. Laufey was not in the habit of listening to mere women.”

“And then Odin came.”

“Odin found me first. I was in… a bad way, from the birth, and he wanted me to return with some of his men to Asgard immediately to seek medical attention. But I refused to go. I knew you were still somewhere in the palace and I would not leave without you. I begged him to find you. He agreed to search.”

“And he found me.”

“Yes. You changed for him, and he knew you were a god. He brought you to me, and he saw the love I had for you, despite… the circumstances of your birth… and he thought that Thor needed that kind of mother in his life. So he asked me to marry him. He said that he would adopt you and raise you as his own. He seemed honest about it, so I accepted. Perhaps I was wrong.”

“No. I understand now that, no matter whether Father put Thor before me or not, I could have had it much worse as far as fathers go,” Loki said. “What happened with Thor?”

“You and I were kept in the Infirmary for a bit, but after a time we were released and the marriage occurred. I was introduced to Thor as his new mother. He didn’t respond. I gave him a hug. After a moment, he hugged me back. And in a few months he was speaking, laughing, playing, acting as if his long silent time had never happened. He called me Mother, called you Brother, and seemed to have no clear memory that there had ever been a time where I at least had not been in his life.”

“Did Odin do something to make him think so?”

Frigga shook her head. “No. Thor created the memories himself. Since then, Odin has been afraid that something would trigger a memory that would send Thor tumbling back into that lost place. That’s why he lied to you when you found out about your truth. That’s why he made me lie to you as well.”

“So to prevent one son from finding out that his mother was not his mother, you had to make the other think that _neither_ parent was his? That’s stellar parenting right there,” Loki said.

“I know. But by the time Odin woke from the Odinsleep and started doing damage control on you, the damage was already done. You knew Odin had adopted you, you convinced yourself that I was not your parent either – there was no way to tell you otherwise, because we did not know where you were. And when you came back to us, Odin thought perhaps that it would send you back into a downward spiral if you knew the truth. So he was trying to protect you as well.”

“Really, Mother? Or did he simply think I was incorrigible and did not deserve the truth?”

Frigga reached out and stroked his arm. “No, he never thought that. But he did think that he did not want _both_ his sons crashing down like that.”

“Thor is stronger than that.”

“Thor had just come back from exile for being an arrogant, boneheaded moron. Odin didn’t want to risk him going back to _that_ place, either.”

“I still don’t understand why you could not tell me.”

Frigga stroked his arm again. “Because you wanted to hurt your brother. Odin did not wish to give you ammunition.”

Loki sat looking down for a moment, then, “I suppose I can see that. I would certainly have wanted him to feel some of that pain for himself… at the start of all this.”

“Will you tell him? Now that you know?” Frigga asked.

“He should know, Mother. He’s living a lie. If he finds out for himself, it won’t be good.”

“It won’t be good either way.”

“True. But at least he can retain some respect for his parents if they tell him face to face. He’s a grown god.”

“Have I lost all your respect?”

Loki closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Mother, I love you dearly, but… the lying _hurts.”_

She hugged him. “I know, my boy. I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I only agreed to lie about your true parentage to protect you.”

“The people must have always known I was not Odin’s son,” Loki said.

“Odin let slip the rumor that you were the result of a misguided tryst between myself and King Odr. The people accepted it as the truth.”

“Your sister’s husband? And you let that rumor stand?”

“It was not good for my reputation, but Odin felt it was better that they think I was guilty of an indiscretion than that you were the product of a rape at the hands of King Laufey. If they knew you were half frost giant… _who knows_ what they’d do.”

“How is it I never heard these rumors of my true parentage?” Loki said.

“We kept you sheltered, as much as we could,” Frigga said. “I knew it couldn’t last, but… you became a grown god before I knew it had happened. I couldn’t protect you any longer. It was inevitable that the truth come to light. The way it happened was the least likely way of all.”

“I was in the army a thousand years ago,” Loki said. “You had time to tell me.”

“No parent is ever ready to admit that their child has grown, Loki. I’m sorry. You came back for that very reason, didn’t you? Judah was growing too swiftly.”

“Judah was mortal.”

“It doesn’t matter. All children grow up too swiftly for their parents’ liking. I cannot make up for the wrong that was done you, my son. I tried to protect you, and I failed. I would ask your forgiveness, but I do not deserve it.”

Moving hesitantly, Loki lay over so that his head rested on her knee. “For all the wrong I have done, to you and everyone else, I am sorry, Mother. I don’t know why you do not hate me simply for what I represent.”

“You’re my son. Why would I hate you?”

“Because of what happened to you!”

“What happened to me was terrible, it is true, and I have had to deal with that for many years now. But you are not to blame for that.”

_“But I’m his son!”_

“You’re _my_ son,” she said firmly, and patted his head. “I say it again, it was good for me that your father never realized you were a god.”

“Well of course. He might not have left you behind to be rescued if he thought you had given him the child he wanted.”

She paused. “I suppose that may be true, but I actually never thought of that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Loki, if he thought you were a god, he would have taken you away from me. Whether he kept me prisoner or not, I would never have seen you again. He couldn’t have you raised by a captive mother, giving you dangerous ideas about how gods may be. He wanted a god child raised _his_ way, by his mindset. As it is, allowing his other children to interact with me seems to have had _some_ residual effect.”

“Was the older one always blind?” Loki asked.

“Helblindi, yes. Yes, he was. His younger brother, Byleistr, led him everywhere. Helblindi took the brunt of Laufey’s ire in those days. His disability rendered him… ‘unacceptable.’ I am glad to discover he survived, at least.”

“He seems remarkably un-Laufey-like,” Loki said. “They both do.”

“Good. Perhaps Jotunheim will prosper again under their rule. And hopefully they’ll be kind to their children.”

“It’s not every goddess who could do what you’ve done,” Loki said. “I understand truly now why you are the goddess of motherhood.”

“I do not think I would be able to blame any woman who could not bear to raise the offspring of rape,” Frigga said. “But for me, there was no choice to make. I literally had none – Laufey gave me no choice but to go through with the pregnancy. And when I first saw you, I knew I loved you, no matter what.”

“Would you say the same if I had been born a frost giant?” Loki said.

“I certainly hope so. I cannot lie and say it would be easy to raise a child I could not safely touch, but every child deserves love.”

“Do you believe that a child can be born bad?”

“No, I do not,” Frigga said, rather aggressively. “Nature is not carried in the genes. Mental illness, perhaps, but not actual evil. It is the way a child is raised that determines ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ And you are not bad, Loki. I know you think you must be.”

“Mental illness. Mother, I am crazier than the proverbial shithouse rat,” Loki said.

“You are not. You have emotional problems, but anyone would who’d been through what you’ve been through. And you never answered my question. Will you tell Thor what you know?”

“No. But Father should. You both should.”

“I agree. But I cannot make your father agree.”

“At least talk to him about it.”

“I will. And _you_ should talk to him, also.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you’ve been avoiding him ever since you came home. He’s your father, Loki. He loves you, and he misses you. You said yourself that you realize you could have had things much worse. Don’t you think it’s time you at least spoke to him at the breakfast table?”

“I… yes, I suppose I probably should.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, Mother.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “That’s my good boy. Now go to bed. It’s late, you’re injured, and I can tell you’re exhausted. Get some rest. You need it.”

He sat up. “Good night, Mother. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s all right. I understand.”

Loki left his mother’s rooms and returned to his own, but though he tried to go to sleep, he lay wakeful the rest of the night.


End file.
